h  is  striwiseP  tBan  fiction  t!iey  say.    This  story  is  mos 
very,  vei7  Ptr^^.ng'?     A  story  of  action,  not  description. 
ix,  will  help  make  the  bad  good  and  the  ^ood  better.  'A  j^ 
it  that  is  usfif  uL 

m  is  the  man  he  Is  today,  the  "has  beens"  and  "will  bea'^ 
md  speculatioits. 


entire  neighborhood   was   quarreling  and   the  "feud*'  waB 
^ut  the  boy  played  on  with  his  horse  who  recognized  no  trouble 
this  boy  better  than  he  did  his  own  life.    The  pleasant  asso- 
the  horse's  mind  kept  the  boy  clean  and  fre*  ^-^  ^  *  '^"  ^»-'* 


^people  do  not  go  very  deeply  into  this  worldly  life.  7>vcy 
shallowj  "ready  to  praise  and  reward  or  d nnn  ':>nd  i'ft-n!f > 
i?a  serious  thought." 


lidn't  the  horse  even  stumble?"  asked  the  excited  posti 
"Hoss?     He's  no  boss,  he's  human,"  answered  the  lea;'    M 
v"Let  me  tell  you  sumpthin'  about  bosses,"  Mr.  Postmark  :.l 
le  time  the  shootin'  started  that  boss  never  looked  at  vv'^-    | 
•goin',  just  watched  that  boy;  they  sure  did  work  toget) 


It's  in  a  name?    Only  a  mark  of  distinction, 
frabered  by  noble  deeds  than  by  name. 


It  is  b'^ter 


lat  I  have  done  niy  duty  as  man  to  man  and.  pei-form 
I  am  ready  to  answer,  "do  with  me  as  you  will "    Pra 
or  damn  and  destroy.— C.  Fox. 


^ 


-n 


r 


C  A.FOX 

TAFT.  CALIFORNIA 


Copyright  1922 

By 

C.  A.  FOX 


*  i  i-- 


p    ....    ^ 

^  Page 

OUR  HEROES  OF  THE  PAST 6 

PLEASANT  VALLEY      -    -     - 13 

THE  WEAKNESS  OF  ANGER 23 

SOWING  THE  DRAGON'S  TEETH  ---..-      33 

A  MAN'S  THE  MAN  HE  IS  TODAY 44 

THE  WORM  OF  BAD  THOUGHT  -    ^ 52 

THE  LIGHTS  IN  THE  VALLEY 62 

GREAT  OAKS  FROM  LITTLE  ACORNS 74 

THE  MAN  HUNTERS -      87 

THE  PLEASANT  ASSOCIATION  OF  MINDS    -     -    94 
THE  HARVEST  OF  HATRED  --------  102 

FUGITIVES  ON  A  DARK  AND  DANGEROUS  TRAIL  123 

SILENT  ON  GUARD    - 130 

A  CRY  THROUGH  THE  NIGHT -    144 

DAMNING  AND  DESTROYING     - 152 

A  HIGH  RESOLVE  ----- 158 

THE  HOME  COMING    - 167 

SHE  WHISPERED  IN  HIS  EAR  AND  HE 

UNDERSTOOD 175 


500679 


FROM  THE  PRESS 

OF 

GEM  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

LOS  ANGELES,  CALIFORNIA 


OUR  HEROES  OF  THE  PAST 

By  A  Reader. 
G.  HUGO  HUBANKS, 

Author,  poet,  grandson  of  Victor  Hugo  tihe  great  writer. 

When  the  white  man  matched  his  powers,  in  the  past,  and  by-gone  days 

With  dangers  of  the  hour,  lurking  near  in  devious  ways 

Whon  the  wild  beasts  were  superior,  in  the  knowledge  of  the  clan 

And  the  cunning  not  inferior,  to  the  courage  of  the  man; 

From  the  mountains  to  the  valley,  and  the  ocean  to  the  plains 

Up  and  down  the  rivers,  they  explored  all  streams 

In  the  black  and  densely  forest,  they  traversed  far  alone 

And  on  vast  and  sandy  deserts,  they  built  their  cabin  homes. 

They  matched  the  ruthless  savage,  and  the  cunning  of  the  foe 

With  that  dauntless  courage,  ever  giving,  blow  for  blow 

Lik<3  a  storm  beat  coast  in  anger,  leaping,  surging  ever  on 

Mid  the  turmoil  and  its  danger,  till  the  goal  is  ever  won 

They  trapped  the  forest's  wilderness — immensity — and  vast 

With  throbbing  hearts  of  kindness,  Our  Heroes  of  the  past. 

We  reap  the  fruits  of  labor,  sown  in  bitterness  and  strife 

By  the  Pioneer  neighbors,  of  some  past,  forgotten  life. 


PREFACE 


THE  ceaseless,  universal  conflict  continually  go- 
ing on  between  the  tribes  and  races  of  man- 
kind; bred,  nourished  and  fomented  by  racial 
hatreds  as  far  back  as  the  human  race  has  rec- 
ords, augmented  by  environments,  real  and  im- 
maginary,  crimes  and  injustices  are  perpetrated 
in  every  imaginable  degree  of  savagery  against 
their  fellow  man  by  tribes,  factions  and  clans,  as 
though  it  were  the  universal  law  adherent  to  their 
very  existence,  collateral  and  environments  per- 
meated to  the  very  marrow,  vibrating  in  every 
impulse  advancing  and  retrograding  as  circum- 
stances may  warrant  to  their  individual  ad- 
vantage. 

Coincident  to  the  time  of  this  narrative,  there 
was  a  territory  where  Daniel  Boone,  a  daring  pio- 
neer, a  hardy  rugged,  fearless,  progressive,  rest- 
less in  his  confines  of  the  north  eastern  states  for 
a  more  adventurous  land,  had  migrated  when  it 
was  wild  and  unsettled.  This  restless  man  has 
carved  his  name  in  the  archives  of  American  his- 
tory. 

Pioneering,  whether  it  was  success  or  fail- 
failure,  depended  upon  the  ability  and  character 
of  the  pioneer.  Where  untold  and  unknown  dang- 
ers awaited,  this  spirit  bold  and  unconquerable, 
fearless  as  the  wild  beasts  that  he  was  forced 


PREFACE 

to  meet,  more  cunning  than  the  savage  Indians 
that  he  met  in  mortal  combat,  this  restless  spiril 
of  adventure  and  advancement  bore  him  onward, 
as  it  has  ever  borne  the  advancement  of  the 
human  race  in  its  onward  march  to  advanced  civ- 
ilization. 

In  the  year  of  eighteen  hundred  four.  Presi- 
dent Jefferson  purchased  from  the  French  Gov- 
ernment a  vast  territory,  which  now  embraces 
*Our  Garden  of  Gold — California,"  covering  many 
millions  of  virgin  wealth — ^wealth  of  undreamed 
values. 

It  was  this  territory  that  became  the  general 
topic  of  interest  throughout  the  United  States  at 
the  time  the  characters  chronicled  in  this  narra- 
tive lived,  and  the  topic  was  often  brightened  and 
interest  enlivened  with  incidents  of  interest  re- 
lated herein. 

Aron  Bear  became  dissatisfied  with  his  sur- 
roundings and  conditions  coincident  to  this  period 
of  his  life.  With  that  thread  of  adventure  which 
is  conducive  to  all  pioneering,  he  decided  to  emi- 
grate to  a  different  land  and  conditions,  than  the 
one  he  found  in  the  old  Kentucky  state,  the  state 
of  his  nativity,  where  he  grew  to  manhood,  where 
he  roamed  the  mountains  and  hunted  in  the  for- 
ests, fished  from  their  streams,  and  toiled  on  his 
little  half-starved  farm  for  existence.  He  had 
subdued  the  adversaries  to  medieval  man's  ad- 
vancement, as  his  forefathers  had  done.  He  had 
tasted  deep  of  the  dregs  of  disappointment,  as  well 


PREFACE 

as  the  sweets  of  life.  He  was  in  common  with  his 
neighbors  and  the  exigency  of  circumstances  had 
placed  him,  as  we  all  are  more  or  less,  victims  of 
our  environments. 

It  was  here,  and  because  of  these  conditions, 
that  Aron  Bear,  his  wife  Susan  and  their  child, 
with  all  their  other  possessions,  prepared  to 
migrate  to  the  undeveloped  country — the  West. 

After  fully  deciding  upon  his  adventure,  it 
became  more  and  more  a  sacred  duty  they  owed 
their  posterity.  A  duty  to  their  children  and 
their  children's  children,  as  it  has  been  ever  thus 
in  man's  material  advancement. 

The  long  and  earnest  preparation  for  the  final 
day  of  leaving  the  old  Kentucky  home — home  of 
their  childhood  days,  sacred  memories  of  the  past 
— memories  so  indelibly  impressed  and  recorded 
upon  the  human  brain,  that  director  of  all  human 
energy,  who  so  false  and  so  pitiful,  so  mercinary 
to  the  finer  feelings  of  human  nature  that  they 
cannot  discern  the  nobler  qualities  of  the  human 
soul.  Finally  it  became  a  day  of  fear  and  equally 
a  day  of  desire,  then  a  day  filled  with  doubt.  But 
the  thought  of  the  pleasures  of  being  permitted 
to  roam  untrampled  and  unrestricted,  unmolested 
by  meddlesome  neighbors,  and  quarreling,  selfish 
individuals,  the  thought  became  a  wish,  and  then 
a  desire  overcoming  all  else — a  clean,  pure  desire 
to  live  a  life  away  from  man's  sins,  away  from  the 
sins  of  civilization.  A  noble  unselfish  achieve- 
ment. 

—10 


PREFACE 

When  Alexander  crossed  the  Alps,  he  went 
to  conquer,  to  lay  waste,  to  obliterate  the  labor 
and  riches  of  a  nation. 

When  Livingston  explored  Africa,  he  went 
to  learn,  to  gather  knowledge  which  might  benefit 
all  humanity — but  Aron — typical  of  the  pioneer- 
ing spirit,  went  West  to  construct,  build  and 
create.  The  nobler  qualities  of  ourselves  demand 
construction.    Shall  we  construct  or  destroy? 

The  eventful  day  of  departure  came  and  Aron 
Bear  with  his  earthly  possessions  gathered  to- 
gether, took  a  farewell  departure  of  his  neigh- 
bors and  relatives  with  a  sad  feeling,  mingled  with 
doubt  and  fear  as  to  his  future  success.  The  day 
was  bright  and  the  sun  shown  in  all  its  magnetic 
greatness.  The  farewell  melodies  of  the  birds, 
the  springtime  brightness,  the  fragrance  of  all 
that  was  so  dear  to  them;  so  sympathetic,  so 
idealistic,  so  promising.  Surely  nature  was  not 
unkind  in  bidding  their  departure  with  smiles  of 
her  sweetest  good-byes. 

The  first  month's  journey  was  slow  and  un- 
eventful. Then  came  the  trials  of  travel,  some- 
times over  dangerous  and  unused  roads,  across 
almost  unfordable  streams,  up  and  down  steep 
canyons  dangerous  to  both  themselves  and  the 
horses,  they  plodded  the  weary  miles  for  months, 
to  satisfy  their  longing  for  the  better  future. 

At  night  they  would  camp  under  trees  of 
heavy  foliage.  After  their  supper,  cooked  over 
a  camp  fire  they  would  sleep  the  deep  peaceful 


PREFACE 


sleep  as  other  roving  adventurous  spirits  have 
done  since  time  began. 


CONTRIBUTED  BY  ANOTHER  READER. 

"This  story  must  be  read  slowly  and  care- 
fully," says  another  reader,  "in  order  to  get  the 
entire  meaning.  I  noticed  where  the  Leading  Tex- 
an, after  looking  at  the  determined  expressions 
on  those  bronze  faces,  said  *yes  also.*  These 
two  words  mean  so  much.  It  means  that  one  act 
of  fearless  and  fair  dealing  by  Silent  had  changed 
the  entire  belief  of  the  tribe  of  Indian  trailers 
from  a  hateful  mistrust  into  a  conception  of  faith 
and  reliance.  Also  showing  the  darkness  of  mis- 
understanding when  he  told  his  ghost  story,  to- 
gether with  the  hatred  spread  by  the  Texans  had 
caused  them  to  hate  and  mistrust  him.  But 
when  Light  and  Truth  was  suddenly  cast  upon 
this  noble  character,  how  readily  these  Indians  ac- 
cepted it.  I  hope  we  will  all  admit  and  accept 
Light  and  Truth  as  these  Red  Men  did,  when  it  is 
reflected  upon  us." 

Yours  very  truly, 
FRANK  BRYON  CRAIGHILL. 


— 1^- 


— •••-«a»BaiKUgf|||np 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  PLEASANT  VALLEY, 

|ONG  before  gold  was  discovered  in  Cali- 
fornia, people  were  drifting  westward. 
Some  went  only  a  short  distance  and 
settled  down,  but  soon  became  dissat- 
isfied and  either  moved  farther  west  or  turned 
—10— 


SILENT 

back  in  disgust.  Others  went  so  far  that  they 
could  not  have  returned  if  they  wanted  to;  but 
all  who  went  west  and  stayed  prospered  either  in 
property  or  experience  or  both. 

One  fearless  and  determined  man  had  de- 
cided to  go  west.  This  was  Aron  Bear  of  Ken- 
tucky, who  took  with  him  his  wife  Susan,  their 
baby  boy  and  his  dog,  and  all  his  wordly  posses- 
sions, which  consisted  of  several  head  of  good 
cattle  and  horses. 

Now  Aron  and  his  neighbors  had  never 
agreed  very  well,  and  he  was  not  sorry  to  be  leav- 
ing his  old  Kentucky  home.  As  they  journeyed 
west  he  often  said  to  Susan, 

"When  we  get  so  far  west  that  there  are  no 
other  cow  tracks  expect  ours,  we  will  settle  down ; 
and  we  will  never  be  bothered  by  fussing  neigh- 
bors any  more." 

And  thus  the  Bear  family  started  west,  Aron 
ahead,  driving  the  horses  and  cattle,  while  Susan 
followed,  driving  the  wagon,  with  the  baby  lying 
crosswise  upon  her  lap,  and  his  dog  following 
behind. 

Day  after  day,  month  after  month,  they  trav- 
eled westward,  villages  getting  smaller  and  farth- 
er apart  as  they  journeyed  on,  each  settlement 
showing  signs  of  its  greater  distance  from  civili- 
zation, until  they  were  past  all  trace  of  settlers. 
No  tracks  of  any  kind  except  those  of  wild  ani- 
mals,— and  these  were  altogether  too  plentiful. 

Night  after  night,  they  made  their  camp  by 


THE  PLEASANT  VALLEY 

some  spring  or  along  the  banks  of  a  stream, 
the  cattle  and  horses  being  turned  out  to  feed 
upon  the  grass  with  the  dog  following  them 
around,  sometimes  all  night,  and  in  his  inexper- 
ienced way,  believing  he  was  guarding  them.  As 
the  country  became  wilder  and  the  signs  of  wild 
life  more  abundant,  the  poor  dog  would  sometime, 
come  skurrying  back  to  camp,  with  his  tail  be- 
tween his  legs,  looking  back  over  his  shoulder, 
trying  to  see  what  was  after  him.  Under  the 
wagon  he  would  go,  half  barking,  half  howling,  he 
would  give  the  alarm  that  wolves,  bears  or  some 
other  kind  of  animals  were  after  the  stock.  Poor 
puppy!  As  he  had  just  grown  to  be  a  dog,  he 
wanted  to  help ;  but  he  knew  that  he  was  no  match 
for  the  big,  snarling  things  that  were  after  him. 
So,  in  his  anxious  fear,  he  would  sit  whining  under 
the  wagon,  while  Aron  would  take  his  gun  and 
cautiously  follow  the  direction  from  which  the 
dog  had  come.  Night  after  night,  Aron  would 
stand  guard  to  protect  the  stock. 

They  were  traveling  in  the  high,  rolling 
mountains  when  they  discovered  a  beautiful  val- 
ley to  the  west  and  far  below  them.  Cautiously 
moving  that  way,  they  found  the  valley  more 
beautiful  than  it  first  appeared.  It  was  beyond 
their  power  of  expression ;  they  were  unable  to  de- 
scribe it  to  each  other ;  and  there  they  stood,  silent 
and  admiring,  until  Aron  turned  to  the  wagon  and 
picked  up  the  baby,  Tom,  as  they  called  him.  Tak- 
ing him  over  to  Susan,  they  held  him  together  be- 
—15— 


SILENT 

tween  them,  and  pointed  to  the  valley  below, 
which  they  told  him  would  be  his  home  forever. 
There  he  would  grow  to  be  a  big,  strong  man  and 
help  daddy  run  cattle  and  shoot  wild  animals. 

They  drove  down  to  the  floor  of  this  won- 
derful paradise,  an  untouched  carpet  of  grass  and 
wild  flowers.  There  were  wild  birds,  wild  honey- 
bees, and  everything  else  to  make  this  gift  from 
heaven  complete.  For  they  knew  it  was  a  gift, 
and  they  knew  it  was  for  them,  as  they  were 
satisfied  that  no  other  white  man  had  ever  laid 
eyes  on  that  wonderful  valley  before. 

Aron  surveyed  the  valley  that  day  from  one 
side  to  the  other  and  found  that  there  was  no 
choice;  it  was  just  as  beautiful  in  one  place  as 
in  another.  They  were  on  the  east  side  of  the 
valley,  but  they  decided  to  go  west,  for,  as  Aron 
said, 

"We  will  be  a  little  farther  away  from  our 
neighbors." 

They  drove  across  this  wonderland  and  made 
camp  for  the  night.  At  bedtime  Mrs.  Bear  knelt 
for  a  long  time  in  silent  prayer.  She  prayed  for 
their  future  happiness  and  for  the  happiness  of 
the  friends  and  neighbors  they  had  left  behind, 
knowing  that  she  and  Aron  would  never  see  them 
again. 

Aron  was  very  alert  that  night,  more'  so  than 

ever  before.    He  was  determined  to  protect  what 

belonged  to  him.    At  every  little  sound  he  was 

up,  gun  in  hand,  stirring  around  among  his  stock, 

—16— 


I 


I 


THE  PLEASANT  VALLEY 

ready  for  anything.    They  did  not  come  too  big 
nor  too  bad  for  Aron.    He  was  not  afraid. 

The  next  morning  Aron  was  so  happy  that  he 
did  not  know  what  to  do  with  himself.  He  said 
he  was  not  angry  any  more  about  the  awful  hard- 
ships that  they  had  gone  through  on  that  trip; 
and  he  thought  it  took  just  these  to  make  this 
place  look  so  good.  He  was  sorry  that  he  had 
sworn  so  badly  and  so  much  on  the  trip.  Turn- 
ing toward  his  wife  he  said, 

"I  noticed,  Susan,  that  you  did  not  go  to  bed 
for  a  long  time  after  you  went  into  the  tent  last 
night.    Were  you  uneasy?" 

"No,  Aron  dear,  I  was  so  happy  that  I  offer- 
ed up  a  long,  silent  and  sincere  prayer.  I  thanked 
God  for  everything,  and  prayed  for  the  future 
happiness  of  ourselves,  our  relatives  and  friends, 
and  for  the  neighbors  we  have  left  behind." 

Evidently  all  of  this  prayer  did  not  appeal 
to  Aron,  but  he  was  happy  and  said  that  he  also 
felt  thankful  and  would  say  a  prayer  if  he  knew 
how.  His  wife  told  him  that  almost  anything 
would  be  a  prayer.  If  he  would  even  say,  "God 
bless  our  home,"  or  something  like  that,it  would 
do.  Aron  decided  he  would  try  it.  So  after  think- 
ing seriously  for  awhile,  he  started.  Here  is 
his  prayer: 

"God  bless  my  wife,  my  son  and  this  valley, 
forever  and  evermore.  Amen !" 

Aron  built  a  big,  double  log  house  with  two 
adobe  chimneys;  there  was  a  large  lot  for  the 
horses,  and  an  ash-hopper  back  of  the  house.  And 
—IT— 


SILENT 

they  were  ready  to  live.  He  selected  a  range  for 
his  stock  and  proclaimed  himself  owner  of  the 
west  side  of  the  valley. 

Everything  was  just  as  it  should  be;  even 
the  dog,  a  half -hound  mongrel,  took  upon  himself 
a  big  task  of  responsibility.  He  had  decided  to 
guard  the  stock  from  "varmints,"  and  he  was 
doing  it.  Sometimes  they  would  come  too  big  or 
too  many  for  him,  and  then  he  would  half-bark, 
half-howl  until  Aron  came  to  his  rescue.  But 
never  would  he  turn  tail  and  run  any  more;  he 
would  fight  the  uneven  battle  in  some  way  until 
Aron  came. 

Years  went  by  in  this  wilderness  of  blessings, 
until  Aron's  livestock  had  multiplied  so  many 
times  that  he  must  seek  a  market  for  it.  He 
found,  after  scouting  around,  that  people  lived 
in  nearly  every  direction  from  him,  but  they  were 
some  distance  away.  He  visited  them  and  found 
a  ready  market  for  horses  and  cattle.  Everyone 
he  found  was  hunting  for  gold,  which  they  told 
him  was  plentiful,  and  mining  was  all  the  go. 

So  Aron  selected  a  prosperous-looking  mining 
camp  and  began  to  drive  his  stock  there  for  sale. 
He  learned  to  take  gold  dust  and  nuggets,  at  their 
value,  in  exchange  for  his  stock.  He  learned  many 
things;  one  was  that,  on  some  scales,  the  gold 
weighed  more  than  it  did  on  others;  another  was 
that  some  nuggets  were  only  gilded  pieces  of  lead. 
He  knew  one  foreign  woman  who  ran  a  store. 
She  wore  a  loose  dress  and  would  stand  up  close 
to  the  scales,  leaning  over  them  just  enough  to 
—18— 


I 


THE  PLEASANT  VALLEY 

touch  the  edge  of  the  scoop,  and  weighing  one  of 
her  breasts  with  each  sale  of  sugar,  coffee  or  any- 
thing that  was  expensive.  He  also  knew  that, 
if  he  let  the  customer  that  he  had  sold  to  induce 
him  to  get  into  a  game,  just  to  help  business 
along,  he  would  always  lose. 

And  when  a  "repentant"  damsel  would  tell 
him  that  now  that  her  step-father,  who  had  driv- 
en her  from  home,  was  dead,  she  would  go  straight 
home  to  mother  and  reform,  if  she  had  the  money, 
he  found  that  she  took  the  money  to  her  sweet- 
heart, who  was  always  broke,  sick  and  out  of 
luck,  and  needed  money. 

Poor  Aron  was  pointed  out  as  one  big  sucker, 
and  they  gave  him  everything  that  was  coming 
to  one  when  they  find  him.  He  would  always 
come  back  with  plenty  of  stock,  and  he  got  well 
acquainted.  He  was  a  good  fellow  and  well  liked. 
And  as  soon  as  he  got  away  from  that  nest  of 
greed,  graft  and  deceit,  he  would  forget,  and  his 
peaceful  state  of  mind  would  return;  he  would 
be  happy  and  come  back  smiling. 

Aron  found  at  the  mining  camp  a  number 
of  unsuccessful  and  dissatisfied  miners.  They  had 
formerly  been  ranchers  themselves,  and  when 
Aron  told  them  of  his  home  in  the  beautiful  and 
pleasant  valley,  they  eagerly  followed  him  there. 
These  men  settled  in  various  parts  of  the  valley. 
One  of  them,  a  big,  good-natured  Missourian,  who 
could  see  everyone's  faults  except  his  own,  made 
application  for  a  post  ofiice,  and  got  it. 

He  called  it  "Pleasant  Valley." 
—19— 


SILENT 

But  the  new  settlers  soon  discovered  greater 
blessings  than  the  beauty  and  fertility  of  the 
ground.  These  were  springs  of  limpid  waters, 
whose  peculiar,  health-giving  properties  made  the 
valley  a  place  to  be  worshipped. 

Aron  continued  to  take  large  bunches  of  stock 
to  the  mining  camp  and  sell  them  for  gold.  As 
this  was  heavy  to  carry,  Aron  always  looked  for 
currency  to  carry  back.  He  had  been  "up 
against"  all  the  small  grafters  in  town,  but,  as 
he  could  be  victimized  only  once  by  the  same 
thing,  it  was  necessary  to  spring  a  new  trick  on 
him  each  time.  He  still  came  and  carried  off  big 
chunks  of  money.  That  was  not  in  accord  with 
the  policy  of  the  camp;  the  attention  of  the  big 
grafters  was  called  to  it;  and  they  began  to 
"frame"  on  the  unsuspecting  Aron. 

One  day,  when  he  was  about  ready  to  leave, 
a  bartender  asked  him  if  he  wanted  about  a 
thousand  dollars  in  one-hundred-dollar  bills  in  ex- 
change for  gold.  Aron  said  he  would  be  glad  of 
the  exchange  and  would  pay  well  for  the  accom- 
modation, as  was  customary.  Out  came  Aorn's 
poke  and  they  weighed  out  a  good  thousand  in 
gold  dust.  The  bartender  took  the  sack  and  gave 
Aron  the  ten  one-hundred-dollar  bills,  at  the  same 
time  handing  him  a  large  envelope  and  saying, 

"Put  that  money  in  there  and  seal  it." 

Aron  thanked  him  for  the  suggestion,  sealed 
the  money  up,  laid  it  down  upon  the  bar,  and  ran 
his  fingers  over  the  envelope,  sealing  it  well,  when 
the  bartender  took  a  pen  and  said, 
—20— 


THE  PLEASANT  VALLEY 

"Now  ni  write  your  name  across  the  back 
and  you  will  have  her  sealed  and  branded." 

Taking  the  envelope,  he  wrote  Aron's  name 
across  the  back,  and  then,  as  if  looking  for  some- 
thing to  blot  with,  picked  up  a  newspaper  that  was 
lying  handy,  lifted  up  some  of  the  pages  and  pre- 
tended to  be  blotting  the  ink.  Then  he  lifted  the 
pages  up  in  a  different  place  and  gave  Aron  an 
envelope  of  the  same  size  and  with  his  name  writ- 
ten across  the  back.  Inside  this  envelope  was  just 
enough  cut  newspaper  to  make  it  appear  to  con- 
tain ten  one-hundred-dollar  bills.  The  bartender 
had  kept  that  envelope  lying  in  the  folds  of  that 
newspaper  for  weeks,  waiting  for  Aron  to  come 
to  town.  When  Aron  returned,  looking  for  re- 
venge, that  particular  bartender  was  gone  — 
while  Aron  was  in  town. 

But  Aron  brought  more  stock  and  took  away 
more  money  all  the  time.  Baby  Tom  had  grown 
now  to  be  a  big  boy,  and  the  best  boy  on  earth, 
as  he  knew  only  that  which  a  good  Christian  moth- 
er had  taught  him.  Every  night  the  same  little 
songs,  the  same  little  prayer,  the  same  advice 
given. 

"Love  everybody,  Tom,  and  everybody  will 
love  you." 

This  was  the  one  great  point  she  wanted  to 
impress  upon  her  boy;  and  she  succeeded,  for  Tom 
loved  everybody  he  had  seen  so  far  and  they  in 
turn  loved  Tom. 

Tom  kept  good  watch  over  the  herds  while 
Daddy  was  gone.  Tom  had  never  been  to  any 
—21— 


SILENT 

of  the  towns.  Aron  had  no  accounting  system, 
and  he  was  not  anxious  to  have  even  little  Tom 
know  about  his  big  losses.  He  explained  to  Susan 
that  the  mining  camp  was  no  place  for  a  young 
boy.    And  he  thought  to  himself, 

"I  have  learned  everything  now;  I  know  all 
their  tricks  and  they  can't  rob  me  any  more. 


n 


J-? 


—22— 


@ 


CHAPTER  11. 

THE  WEAKNESS  OF  ANGER. 

HE  little  town  of  Pleasant  Valley  grew. 
There  were  forty  people,  getting  their 
mail  there,  and  every  time  a  newcomer 

would  arrive,  the  postmaster's  chest 

stuck  out  a  little  farther.  He  had  added  a  store 
tliat  carried  "everything,  from  a  needle  to  a 
thrashin'  machine,"  as  he  would  say.  When  a 
newcomer  sauntered  up  toward  the  store,  he 
would  find  the  owner  sitting  on  the  front  steps, 
cliewing  tobacco,  whittling  and  picking  his  teeth. 
The  postmaster  would  never  answer  many  ques- 
tions until  he  had  asked  the  usual  number  himself. 
They  were, 

"Where  did  you  come  from?  What  for? 
W'hy  don't  you  put  that  big  hoss  on  the  other 
side?  What  have  you  got  most  of  your  load  in 
the  back  of  the  wagon  for?" 

And  at  times  he  would  get  real  personal. 

One  day  a  fellow  was  .  ^^^ck  in  the  mud  and 
tlie  postmaster  went  out  to  w«.ch  and  give  advice. 
One  horse  was  pulling  to  beat  the  dickens,  and 
tlie  other  was  not  pulling  a  pound.  He  noticed 
immediately  that  the  newcomer  was  laying  the 
lash  right  down  on  the  good  horse  that  was  doing 
the  pulling.    He  stepped  right  up  and  said, 

"Hold  on  there!  Why  don't  you  whip  the 
other  horse?" 

—23— 


THE  WEAKNESS  OP  ANGER 

The  stranger  looked  scornfully  at  the  post- 
master and  said, 

*Don*t  do  no  good.  He  won't  pull  nohow; 
'sides  he's  my  swappin'  hoss." 

The  postmaster  rammed  his  hands  'way  down 
in  his  pockets,  and  sauntered  back  home.  That 
was  too  deep  for  him;  he  could  not  grasp  it  all 
at  once.  Whenever  anyone  asked  him  if  this  is  a 
post  office,  he  would  look  as  wise  as  an  owl;  and 
after  deliberating  what  he  thought  was  an  im- 
pressive length  of  time,  would  remark  leisurely, 

"This  is  a  United  States  post  office,  if  that  is 
what  you're  looking  for.  I  do  business  with  Uncle 
Sam  direct." 

And  if  that  sank  in  all  right,  he  would  follow 
with  more.  He  would  say  that  he  was  directly 
appointed  from  Washington,  D.  C,  and  as  he  was 
a  recognized  agent  of  the  department,  he  consid- 
ered that  he  was  an  acting  part  of  the  United 
States  Government  right  now. 

One  day  he  saw  a  new  outfit  coming.  The 
horses  were  old  and  shabby-looking,  and  the  driv- 
er sat  there  in  an  aimless  sort  of  manner,  as  if 
he  did  not  care  if  the  horses  stopped  that  very 
step,  or  took  another — they  were  going  so  slowly. 
The  postmaster  stepped  right  out  to  meet  this 
newcomer,  sure  that  this  fellow  needed  a  lot  of  ad- 
vice, and  he  was  surely  going  to  give  it  to  him. 
He  did  not  stop  this  time  to  say,  "Howdy,  strang- 
er," but  just  as  soon  as  he  got  his  hands  down 
deep  in  his  pockets,  he  said: 

"Looks  like  about  the  first  thing  you'd  do  is 
—24— 


SILENT 


1 


to  buy  some  flesh  to  put  on  them  old  bones." 
(Meaning  the  horses.) 

The  stranger  answered  in  a  pleasant  way, 
that  the  horses  were  old  and  had  bad  teeth;  and 
on  that  account,  he  bore  kindly  with  their  slow 
motion.  And  then  in  a  different  tone  of  voice,  he 
said  that  sometimes  kindness  lay  more  affection- 
ately on  bones  than  the  lash  on  flesh. 

The  postmaster  did  not  understand;  so  he 
walked  around  on  the  other  side  of  the  wagon, 
in  order  to  change  the  subject,  stuck  his  hands 
'way  down  deep  in  his  pockets,  until  his  elbows 
were  well  covered,  then  asked, 

"Have  you  come  a  long  way,  mister?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  stranger,  "a  long,  long  way; 
but  distance  does  not  seem  to  blur  the  vivid  recol- 
lections of  the  past." 

Back  went  the  postmaster  to  the  other  side 
of  the  wagon.  This  fellow  was  talking  all  right, 
but  the  postmaster  could  not  put  together  the 
things  the  stranger  said;  and  he,  a  Government 
Official,  must  not  be  outdone  .  So  he  came  right 
out  very  bluntly  and  asked, 

"What  is  your  business,  and  what  do  you 
want  here?" 

"I  am  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  and  my  wife 
here  is  a  school  teacher.  We  are  not  a  proud  peo- 
ple; all  we  want  is  a  place  where  we  can  make  a 
plain  and  common  living  in  peace  and  content- 
ment, the  reward  of  our  efforts  to  be  apprecia- 
tion." 

"Well,  now  you're  talking,"  said  the  po.-it- 
—26— 


SILENT 

master,  "I  can  hear  you.  Now  we'll  get  together 
right  away.  You  can  camp  anywhere  you  please. 
This  is  a  free  country,  and  wo  are  all  good  neigh- 
bors and  agreeable." 

That  night  in  the  store  and  post  office,  a  gen- 
eral meeting  was  called.  Everybody  agreed  to 
lend  a  hand  and  in  no  time  a  house  was  built  for 
the  preacher.  Then  they  built  a  church  and  school 
house,  which  was  one  and  the  same  building.  Aron 
came  back  from  the  houseraising  and  told  the 
wonderful  news  to  his  wife  Susan: 

"We  are  going  to  have  a  school  house,  church 
and  Sunday  school!" 

What  wonderful  news  for  Mrs.  Bear!  How 
she  pictured  the  day  when  she  could  dress  her 
boy  up  in  his  new  clothes,  comb  his  hair,  pat  him 
upon  the  cheek  and  say,  as  she  kissed  him  good 
by, 

"Be  a  good  boy,  Tom,  and  study  hard!" 

The  community  was  certainly  proud  now. 
Every  time  there  was  an  argument  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, they  brought  their  troubles  to  the  good 
preacher.  He  would  smooth  away  their  difficul- 
ties, and  send  them  away  happy.  But  if  they 
did  not  bring  their  troubles  to  him,  he  would  nev- 
er go  to  them;  and  when  they  found  this  to  bo 
the  case,  they  all  came  to  him  and  everything 
rocked  in  harmony. 

Aron  decided  that  his  trips  over  to  the  min- 
ing camp  were  not  as  profitable  as  they  should 
be,  considering  everything.  So  one  day  he  rode 
over  to  the  camp  without  anything,  and  told  the 
—26— 


THE  WEAKNESS  OF  ANGER 

miners  that,  if  they  would  give  him  an  order  for 
about  three  thousand  dollars*  worth  of  cattle  he 
ivould  deliver  them ;  otherwise  they  would  have  to 
come  after  them. 

The  business  men  got  together  and  gave  him 
the  order ;  and  Aron  came  back  with  new  business 
ideas.  If  this  big  business  kept  up,  he  thought  he 
^vould  need  a  hand  to  help,  as  Tom  would  be  going 
to  school  now ;  and  that  left  only  himself  and  the 
dog,  which  always  accompanied  Aron  when  he 
took  the  cattle  over  to  the  mines.  Aron  would 
drive  the  cattle  day  and  night  until  they  got  tired. 
Then  he  would  lie  down  and  take  a  short  nap. 
The  dog  would  stand  guard  over  them  until  they 
got  restless  again,  when  Aron  would  drive  them 
on  until  they  reached  the  mining  camp. 

The  next  time  Aron  went  to  town,  he  told  the 
postmaster  that,  if  a  single  man  came  along,  to 
tell  him  that  he,  Aron,  needed  a  hand;  that  the 
wages  would  be  fair,  the  home  good,  and  the  hand 
would  be  treated  as  one  of  the  family.  The  post- 
master agreed  to  keep  a  lookout  for  such  a  hand. 
He  informed  Aron  that  the  books  ordered  for  the 
school  had  arrived,  and  the  next  Monday  had  been 
set  as  the  day  to  start  school  in  the  Pleasant  Val- 
ley school  house.  Aron  rode  right  home  to  tell 
Susan,  who  was  so  happy  and  excited  over  the 
ijood  news  that  she  could  hardly  find  anything 
and  almost  forgot  to  get  supper  that  night;  but 
finally  she  got  settled  down,  and  by  Monday  morn- 
ing she  had  her  boy  ready  and  shining  from  head 
to  foot. 

—27— 


THE  WEAKNESS  OF  ANGER 

What  a  big  day  that  was!  They  both  went 
with  Tom,  and  Susan  and  the  boy  were  introduced 
around  and  around  to  the  parson  and  his  wife  by 
the  postmaster.  All  details  arranged,  Tom,  seated 
upon  a  split-log  bench  with  eight  others,  started 
the  first  day  of  school.  On  the  way  back  home 
Mrs.  Bear  could  not  keep  from  loving  Aron  all 
the  time.  What  peace  and  happiness  there  were  I 
And  she  knew  that  it  was  all  caused  by  Aron's 
steadfast  determination  to  come  west. 

Tuesday  morning,  after  Aron  had  rounded  up 
his  three-thousand-dollar  herd,  he  started  for  the 
mining  camp;  but  while  he  was  planning  big 
herds,  the  grafters,  with  nothing  else  to  do,  were 
also  planning  big  things.  When  Aron  drove  in  his 
herd  and  delivered  it,  he  was  paid  the  three  thous- 
and in  gold  coin  and  nuggets,  which  made  quite  a 
heavy  load.  As  he  was  walking  across  the  street 
straight  to  his  horse  and  dog.  Aron  met  a  well- 
dressed  stranger,  who  resembled  the  parson  back 
home.    The  stranger  accosted  him,  saying, 

"May  I  speak  to  you,  please  ?" 

Aron  answered,  "Of  course  you  can.  What 
is  it?" 

"My  name  is  Good,"  said  the  stranger.  "I 
have  just  arrived  here,  and  am  starting  a  ranch 
and  wish  to  stock  it.  After  just  seeing  the  beau- 
tiful livestock  you  have,  I  would  like  to  buy  a  like 
amount,  for  which  I  will  pay  you  three  thousand 
dollars  in  gold.    Will  you  sell  them  to  me?" 

Aron  answered  that  he  would  be  glad  to  bring 
them  right  away.    The  stranger  said, 
—28— 


SILENT 


"Step  right  into  my  office  here  and  I  will  pay 
you  for  them  now,  as  I  wish  to  do  an  upright 
cash  business." 

Aron  willingly  stepped  into  the  office,  which 
was  a  long,  narrow  building,  made  of  one  by 
twelve  boards,  running  up  and  down.  There  was 
a  table  standing  up  against  one  side,  and  under 
the  table  was  a  strong  box  from  which  the  strang- 
er took  a  leather  grip,  well  and  strongly  made. 
He  unlocked  it  and  there  weighed  out  a  good  three 
thousand,  remarking,  as  he  put  the  gold  back 
into  the  grip, 

"I  will  loan  you  the  grip  until  you  return  with 
the  cattle,  and  you  can  use  it  to  carry  your  gold 
in.   I  can  keep  what  I  have  left  in  my  strong  box." 

Aron  thanked  him  and  asked  him  to  come 
home  with  him.  The  stranger  said  he  would  like 
to,  but  he  had  a  crew  of  men  getting  the  ranch 
ready,  and  would  come  some  other  time.  As  Aron 
placed  his  own  three  thousand  dollars  in  the  same 
grip,  the  stranger  locked  it  and  handed  Aron  the 
key  with  his  right  hand,  his  left  hand  resting  upon 
the  grip.  At  that  instant  someone  knocked  vio- 
lently at  the  door.  They  both  turned  quickly 
and  Mr.  Good  said, 

"Come  in!" 

The  moment  their  backs  were  turned,  two  of 
the  one  by  twelve  boards,  which  formed  the  wall 
behind  the  table,  opened  like  doors.  Two  hands 
appeared  quickly;  one  took  the  grip  containing 
the  six  thousand  dollars,  the  other  replacing  it 
with  the  same  kind  of  a  grip,  filled  with  iron  nuts 
—29— 


SILENT 

and  washers.  As  Aron  turned  back,  he  saw  the 
stranger  standing  there  with  the  same  hand  on 
the  same  grip,  and  did  not  even  realize  that  he 
had  taken  his  eyes  off  it.  The  newcomer  entered 
the  door  and  said  that  the  ranch  house  was  finish- 
ed. The  stranger  told  the  man  to  go  right  back 
and  prepare  for  a  nice  drove  of  cattle  that  was 
coming. 

Aron  left  at  once.  He  did  not  trade  at  the 
mining  camp  now ;  he  bought  everything  from  the 
honest  postmaster,  who  did  not  lean  over  the 
scales  with  a  loose  mother-hubbard  on.  As  he 
rode  home  he  was  thinking,  as  many  others  have 
thought  before  they  found  out. 

"What  a  nice,  pleasant,  agreeable  fellow  that 
was  for  a  stranger!" 

When  he  got  home  he  told  Susan  about  his 
good  fortune  and  the  great  amount  of  money  he 
had  brought  back,  and  what  beautiful  nuggets 
the  stranger  had  given  him.  The  man's  name  was 
Good,  he  said,  and  there  was  something  good 
about  him  besides  the  name.  He  would  show  her 
and  Tom  right  now. 

He  got  his  key  and  tried  several  times  to  open 
the  grip.  Poor  Aron!  He  knew  that  the  key  he 
had  was  the  key  that  had  locked  the  grip,  but  he 
did  not  know  that  the  grip  he  had  seen  locked 
was  not  the  grip  he  now  had.  He  recalled  that 
the  stranger  was  nervous  when  he  had  locked  the 
grip,  so  he  decided  that  Mr.  Good  must  have  brok- 
en the  lock.  He  was  so  anxious  to  show  Susan 
that  he  pried  the  lock  open. 
—30— 


THE  WEAKNESS  OP  ANGER 

It  was  too  bad !  All  the  good  thoughts,  which 
continued  harmony  had  stored  in  Aron's  mind, 
were  gone.  He  was  too  weak  to  stand  the  shock. 
And  raging  he  charged  about  like  a  madman.  In 
his  weakened  condition,  he  decided  to  go  back  and 
"get"  the  stranger. 

I  say  "in  his  weakened  condition."  For,  when 
a  person  allows  himself  to  get  really  angry,  he  is 
very  weak,  and  should  never  attempt  to  do  any- 
thing while  in  that  state,  except  to  get  off  by 
himself  and,  when  there,  give  himself  a  good  talk- 
ing to.  You  can  do  it.  Then,  when  you  realize 
that  you  have  no  malice,  and  can  say  to  yourself, 

"Now  that  I  am  sane  and  sensible  I  will  act," 
you  can  act  sensibly. 

And  here  let  me  point  out  the  difference. 
Aron,  in  his  weakened  condition,  got  right  on  his 
horse  with  his  gun,  determined  to  "get"  the 
stranger.  And  when  he  arrived  at  the  camp,  he 
found  that  the  people  who  knew  Mr.  Good  were 
few.  And  they  said  that  he  had  left  camp  the 
night  before  in  a  great  hurry,  taking  all  his  be- 
longings with  him.  Like  the  bartender,  he  was 
"gone"  to  certain  visitors. 

Now  we  will  take  the  sensible  way.  Suppose 
Aron,  finding  that  he  had  been  robbed,  had  gone 
off,  we  will  say,  into  seclusion  until  he  had  fully  re- 
covered from  the  loss,  and  had  come  out  recon- 
ciled with  all  the  world.  Then  had  rounded  up  his 
herd  of  cattle  and  with  a  smile  of  contentmenc, 
entered  the  mining  camp.  Mr.  Good  would  have 
been  there  to  meet  him  with  a  smile,  thinking  he 
—31— 


THE  WEAKNESS  OP  ANGER 

had  not  opened  the  grip  and  would  get  the  cattle 
besides  the  three  thousand.  During  the  hand- 
shaking Aron  could  have  embraced  the  slippery 
one  so  firmly  in  those  powerful  hands  that  he 
would  have  been  glad  to  have  a  chance  to  return 
the  six  thousand  with  interest. 

But  he  did  just  as  so  many  of  us  do.  He  did 
his  thinking  after  he  returned.  When  he  told  Su- 
san that  he  was  never  going  back  to  that  mining 
camp  any  more,  she  said  she  was  glad.  And  now 
that  she  knew,  she  did  not  care  about  the  money 
so  much. 

"Aron,  you  have  never  been  just  right  since 
you  have  been  going  to  that  awful  mining  camp," 
she  said.  "And  now  that  Tom  is  growing  up,  we 
must  keep  such  stories  from  him." 

So  they  agreed  that  the  balance  of  their  lives 
should  be  devoted  to  the  boy,  because  all  they  had 
was  his.  And  they  also  agreed  that,  if  the  miners 
wanted  the  cattle,  they  could  come  after  them. 


—32— 


CHAPTER  IIL 

SOWING  THE  DRAGON'S  TEETH. 

CM  WAS  learning  very  fast,  as  any 
child  with  a  clean  mind  will.  Things 
were  almost  back  to  the  happy  and 
pleasant  conditions.  New  settlers  were 
coming  all  the  time,  looking  for  the  waters  that 
cured  all  mankind.  The  church  and  the  school 
were  the  talk  of  the  country.  One  day  Aron  no- 
ticed that  someone  had  settled  right  close  to  him. 
He  rode  over  to  the  place  where  the  man,  his  wife, 
and  little  girl  were  unpacking  their  things,  and 
asked, 

"Are  you  going  to  settle  here,  mister?" 
"Well,"  said  the  man,  "I  just  heared  about  those 
waters,  and  come  right  here  to  stay.  I  inquired 
down  to  the  town  and  they  told  me  you  claimed 
that  side  of  the  valley,  which  I'm  willing  to  help 
you  hold.  And  as  I  have  a  heap  of  stock,  Fll  claim 
the  other  side  and  be  your  neighbor.  And  be- 
sides, I  want  Betty  here,  my  little  child,  to  have 
schoolin*.  As  it  was,  she  was  growing  up  like  a 
weed,  no  education  at  all.  And  now  that  we  are 
neighbors,  just  help  yourself  to  anything  Fve  got; 
for  I  sure  do  like  to  be  neighborly  with  my  neigh- 
bors. And  if  you  ever  need  help  just  call  on  me, 
I'll  be  there.  My  name  is  Dave  Ash  and  I  hai'. 
from  Tennessee.  May  I  ask  where  you  come 
from  and  what  your  name  is?" 


SILENT 

Aron  did  not  like  the  conversation.  It  was 
too  friendly  at  first  sight.  It  reminded  him  of  the 
recent  past ;  but  he  answered  politely  that  he  was 
form  Kentucky,  and  his  name  was  Aron  Bear.  He 
added  that  he  also  had  a  wife  and  one  child,  and 
they  would  be  pleased  to  have  good  neighbors. 
And  so  they  bade  each  other  good  day. 

Aron  was  glad  now  to  have  neighbors.  He 
hoped  the  newcomer  was  just  the  kind  of  man 
that  he  said  he  was,  and  would  not  turn  out  to  be 
like  the  ones  in  the  mining  camp,  who  appeared  so 
nice  at  first.  Susan  agreed  that  it  would  be  well  for 
awhile  to  watch  a  person  who  had  so  many  good 
things  to  say  for  himself. 

The  next  day  saw  the  place  covered  with 
workmen.  The  new  nighbor  must  be  rich,  as  he 
had  hired  everybody  in  Pleasant  Valley  to  help 
build  a  house.  And  it  was  a  big  house,  larger 
than  the  Bears',  and  not  adobe,  but  with  rock 
chimneys,  and  no  ash-hopper.  Was  it  possible 
they  were  going  to  buy  their  soap  already  made  ? 
Well,  they  must  be  rich,  that's  all. 

By  all  the  laws,  it  was  Mrs.  Bear's  place  to 
call,  and  she  had  gotten  ready  to  do  so  many 
times,  but  something  trivial  would  prevent  it,  un- 
til it  had  gone  an  alarmingly  long  time.  And 
the  Ashes  resented  it  but  said  nothing,  not  even 
to  each  other,  as  they  thought  it  was  not  done  in- 
tentionally. But  if  it  were,  Betty  would  hear 
something  at  school. 

Still  there  was  no  visit.  So  they  carefully 
told  Betty  to  hint  around  the  boy  and  tell  them 


THE  WEAKNESS  OF  ANGER 

what  he  said.    So  brilliant  was  the  thought  that 
they  chuckled  to  themselves  and  said: 

"There's  more  than  one  way  to  skin  a  cat !" 

Betty  thought  about  it  all  day,  and  decided  to 
throw  out  the  "hint"  on  the  way  home  from  school. 
She  did;  she  started  to  "hint"  just  as  soon  as 
they  left  the  school  house,  and  she  "hinted"  all 
the  way  home,  which  was  the  beginning  of  a  war 
between  Kentucky  and  Tennessee. 

The  first  "hint"  was  this: 

'Your  folks  are  jealous  of  us  because  we  got 
the  most  money,  hain't  cha.  You  don't  need  to 
come.  We  don't  want  cha.  You're  too  poor.  You 
can't  afford  to  wear  out  your  shoes." 

Tom  had  never  before  heard  anything  like 
that,  and  he  did  not  answer  at  all.  And  Betty 
continued, 

"Your  old  'dobe  chimneys  are  falling  down. 
You  can't  have  rock,  like  ours.  And  your  old 
house  has  got  holes  in  it  you  could  throw  a  cat 
through." 

They  both  rode  horseback  to  school.  So 
Tom,  being  very  much  annoyed  at  the  attack, 
decided  to  ride  faster  to  get  out  of  the  way.  As 
he  started  to  go  on,  she  followed  for  a  distance, 
calling  him  a  coward  and  shouting, 

"All  cowards  run !" 

That  hurt  Tom's  feelings.  He  began  to  cry 
and  his  eyes  were  still  wet  when  he  reached  home. 
His  mother  noticed  it,  as  she  would  notice  every- 
thing about  her  boy. 

—35— 


SILENT 

"What  in  the  wide  world !"  she  said.  "I  never 
saw  you  feel  so  badly  before." 

Tom  did  not  want  to  tell  and  said  so.  And 
if  she  had  only  been  satisfied  to  let  him  remain 
silent,  what  a  difference  it  would  have  made !  But 
inquisitiveness  is  one  of  the  holes  through  v/hich 
the  worm,  Bad  Thought,  enters  the  mind.  She 
insisted,  and  Tom  obeyed,  as  he  had  always  done. 
Hurt?  She  was,  just  as  Aron  was  when  he  had 
opened  the  grip  full  of  iron  washers.  And  the 
first  guy- wire  snapped  from  the  anchor  of  har- 
mony in  Pleasant  Valley. 

Hurting  her  boy's  feeling,  and  expecting  her 
not  to  resent  it,  was  like  putting  red-hot  coals  on 
her  bare  feet  and  asking  her  to  stand  still.  It 
could  not  be  done.  After  having  a  good  cry,  she 
decided  to  let  her  new  neighbors  alone;  have  ab- 
solutely nothing  to  do  with  them ;  and  maybe  they 
would  apologize  for  putting  their  child  up  to  say- 
ing such  nasty  things.  For  of  course  they  had 
told  her  to  say  those  very  words.  No  child  of 
that  age  could  think  of  such  mean  things  unless 
she  had  been  taught  at  home. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bear  were  positive  on  that  sub- 
ject. But  they  would  wait  and  say  nothing,  as 
there  had  never  been  a  quarrel  in  Pleasant  Val- 
ley. They  did  not  want  to  be  called  trouble-  mak- 
ers, so  they  agreed  with  each  other  to  keep  still, 
which  was  proper,  provided  they  had.  But  they 
told  poor,  innocent  little  Tom  to  "get  back"  at 
Betty  and  try  to  hurt  her  feelings,  to  play  with 
the  other  girls  in  school  and  ignore  her  entirely, 
—36— 


THE  WEAKNESS  OP  ANGEE 

unless  he  got  a  chance  to  get  even  by  saying 
things  about  her  being  at  the  foot  of  the  class, 
etc.  Each  day  when  Tom  came  home  from 
school,  he  was  asked  about  the  Ash  girl,  and  re- 
minded about  the  chances  he  had  to  get  even. 

The  Ash  family  were  still  wondering  why 
the  Bears  did  not  come  over.  They  knew  that 
there  could  be  nothing  against  themselves,  and 
Ash  had  done  and  said  everything  he  could  to 
be  neighborly ;  still  they  refused  to  come.  Well,  he 
would  ride  over  and  return  Aron's  first  call.  So 
he  rode  up  in  front  of  Bear's  house,  where  the 
family  were  seated  upon  the  porch,  and  said, 

"Howdy." 

The  Bears  nodded  and  Aron  said  coldly, 

"Howdy." 

Dave  rode  back  home,  sure  now  that  some- 
thing was  wrong.  What  was  it?  There  had  never 
been  a  word  spoken  in  the  Ash  home  against  the 
Bear  family. 

When  Betty  came  home  from  school  that 
night,  they  asked  her  if  she  had  ever  heard  the 
Bear  boy  say  anything.    To  this  she  answered, 

"No." 

Then  they  asked  her  about  the  time  they 
had  told  her  to  "hint  around"  to  see  if  she  could 
find  out  anything  from  Tom.  And  Betty,  remem- 
bering that  she  had  been  so  naughty  with  Tom, 
thought  that  something  had  leaked  out,  and  that 
she  was  going  to  be  punished  for  having  acted 
that  way ;  so  she  began  to  cry. 

Between  sobs,  the  Ash  family  learned  from 
—37— 


SILENT 

Betty  that  the  first  time  she  had  ever  tried  to  talk 
to  Tom,  the  boy  had  run  away  and  would  not  an- 
swer her,  adding  that  he  would  never  speak  to  her 
since.  She  just  knew  that  Tom  hated  her  and  she 
had  never  done  anything  wrong  to  him. 

While  she  was  "boo-hooing,"  she  was  watch- 
ing out  of  the  corner  of  her  eye  to  see  if  her 
crying  and  sobbing  was  going  to  offset  what  she 
thought  her  parents  had  heard  about  the  naughty 
things  she  had  said  to  poor  Tom.  But  they  did 
not  know;  in  fact,  neither  family  knew  and  it 
seemed  impossible  for  them  to  learn.  As  ignor- 
ance is  necessary  to  create  ambition,  it  must  have 
a  breeding  place.  In  this  case  the  breeding  place 
was  with  the  two  families  of  grown-ups.  The 
children,  with  their  unset,  harmless  and  innocent 
n'»inds,  would  have  been  trading  chews  of  gum 
the  next  day,  if  let  alone. 

When  Betty  was  satisfied  that  her  parents 
knew  nothing  of  the  real  facts  and  that  all  was 
well,  she  began  to  mumble  about  what  she  was 
going  to  do  to  Tom  if  he  ever  mistreated  her 
again. 

"You  are  a  chip  off  the  old  block,"  her  father 
told  her,  "And  now  that  we  know  how  the  Bears 
feel,  we  will  give  them  just  as  good  as  they  send. 
From  now  on  we  will  let  them  alone;  but  if  they 
start  anything,'  we'll  help  'em  finish  it  and  maybe 
go  'em  one  better  for  good  luck." 

Betty  went  right  on  playing  and  in  a  mo- 
ment had  forgotten  everything  that  had  happened. 
But  when  she  went  to  school  the  next  day,  she 
—38— 


THE  WEAKNESS  OF  ANGER 

r(imembered.  For  her  father  had  told  her  that 
there  were  no  Kentucky  folks  on  earth  who  could 
run  it  over  Tennesseeans  like  that;  and  that 
slie  ought  to  spit  right  in  that  boy's  face  the  next 
time  he  looked  at  her.  So  she  went  to  school  with 
full  instructions.  She  kept  busy  trying  to  "get 
even,"  for  she  had  been  told  to  "get  even."  Tom 
avoided  Betty  as  much  as  he  could,  but  at  last 
he  began  to  lose  his  good  patience,  and  at  times 
V  ould  spit  back  at  her.  Every  night,  each  child 
reported  at  home. 

The  next  Sunday  everyone  went  to  church. 
Ic  was  such  a  treat  to  get  together  to  sing  and 
pray,  and  to  hear  the  preacher  say  such  nice, 
comforting  things.  When  church  was  over  and 
the  different  families  gathered  together  to  ex- 
change greetings,  there  was  not  the  least  sign 
of  an  acknowledgment  of  acquaintance  between 
the  Ash  family  and  the  Bear  family.  So  here 
let  us  say  that  the  brooder  is  full,  the  heat  ap- 
plied, it  being  necessary  only  to  await  the  hatch- 
ing of  each  little  chick  of  ignorance,  to  fly  off  in 
haste  to  spread  the  spite  and  the  hate  that  ig- 
norance breeds. 

Brooding  over  the  trouble  between  the  two 
families,  Aron  Bear  said: 

"Susan,  these  people  just  moved  up  here  to 
show  out.  They  got  right  in  front  of  our  house, 
barely  out  of  hearing  distance,  and  just  to  make 
c  urs  look  worse,  built  a  fine  house  with  rock  chim- 
neys, a  water  well  and  everything  fine.  They  feel 
—39— 


SILENT 

that  they  are  better  than  we  are  because  we  have 
no  money  to  fix  up  our  house." 

Here  he  began  to  think  of  the  money  he  had 
been  swindled  out  of,  and  the  rest  of  the  good 
things  he  was  going  to  say  were  forgotten. 

Dave  Ash,  who  had  also  been  selling  cattle  to 
the  miners,  had  never  been  cheated  as  Aron  had. 
The  "slickers"  had  never  set  their  traps  for  him, 
not  that  he  was  too  smart  for  them.  If  you  ever 
get  "stung,"  just  remember  that  it  takes  a  certain 
amount  of  intelligence  for  a  confidence  man  to 
work  on  successfully. 

The  miners  sent  buyers  to  scour  the  country, 
looking  for  fat  cattle.  Aron,  being  short  of  cash, 
made  them  a  good  price  and  they  bought  a  small 
herd,  soon  coming  back  after  more. 

Dave  Ash  had  driven  his  cattle  into  Pleas- 
ant Valley  from  a  distance,  and  some  of  them  had 
strayed  back  to  where  he  had  brought  them  from. 
When  he  missed  them  he  first  went  over  to  Aron's 
side  of  the  valley  to  look  for  them.  Failing  to 
find  them,  he  quietly  told  his  friends  that  Aron 
had  taken  some  of  his,  Dave's  cattle.  Could  it  be 
a  mistake?  They  would  all  wait  and  see.  So  the 
next  time  the  buyer  came  back,  they  questioned 
him  about  his  reason  for  having  bought  all  his 
cattle  from  Aron.  The  buyer  politely  told  them 
that  Mr.  Bear  had  said  that  he  had  too  many 
cattle  and  had  made  the  buyer  an  exceedingly  low 
price.  Well,  that  settled  it!  Aron  was  selling 
Dave's  cattle!  They  were  looking  for  something 
and  they  had  found  it.  Aron's  particular  friends 
—40— 


■I 


THE  WEAKNESS  OF  ANGER 


had  never  heard  of  the  scandal;  but  all  of  Dave's 
had,  you  bet  they  had. 

Now  some  cattle  buyers  are  very  careless 
people.  When  they  are  driving  out  a  small  herd 
that  they  have  bought,  the  rest  of  the  cattle  hat- 
ing to  see  their  former  mates  leaving,  will  some- 
times follow  the  band  along,  and  eventually  get 
into  it.  The  careless  buyer  fails  to  notice  that 
he  has  in  his  drove  some  cattle  that  he  did  not 
buy;  or  if  he  does  notice  it,  he  forgets  about  it 
and  the  strays  go  along  some  way.  This  was  hap- 
pening regularly  to  Aron,  but,  as  you  will  re- 
member, Aron  trusted  too  much,  so  he  did  not 
miss  the  cattle  until  he  noticed  Dave  riding  on 
his  side  of  the  valley.  This  made  him  decide  to 
count  his  cattle,  and  upon  doing  so,  he  found 
Mbout  as  many  cattle  missing  as  Dave  claimed  he 
had  lost.  So  Aron  told  some  of  the  old-timers 
about  having  seen  Dave  riding  on  his,  Aron's, 
range  and  about  his  own  missing  cattle.  These 
people  all  agreed  with  Aron  that  no  man  had  any 
right  to  ride  another's  range  without  permission 
or  some  good  excuse. 

Soon  the  neighbors  took  up  the  quarrel,  and 
where  were  frequent  clashes  like  this :  Aron's 
friends  would  ask: 

"What  was  Dave  Ash  ridin'  Aron  Bear's 
range  all  the  time  for  if  he  meant  well?" 

And  Dave's  friends  would  answer: 

"He  was  trying  to  find  his  cattle,  but  he  was 
-^    too  late.    Somebody  done  sold  'em." 

As  all  factions  are,  so  this  one  was  about 
--41— 


SILENT 

equal.  Natural  sympathy  lies  with  the  weaker 
side  at  all  times.  As  soon  as  one  side  gets  strong- 
er than  the  other,  the  more  sympathetic  people 
go  to  the  weak  side,  until  again  the  sides  are 
even.  And  this  factional  fight,  like  all  others, 
had  no  definite  starting  point,  the  feeling  being 
based  entirely  upon  hearsay  and  sympathy,  which 
naturally  kept  them  even.  By  the  sides  keeping 
even,  factions  never  die  out.  Neither  side  could 
come  right  out  and  swear  that  the  other  one  had 
done  anything  wrong  or  had  violated  any  law,  but 
they  thought  so, — and  thought  was  ruling,  as 
it  always  does,  good  or  bad.  New  rumors  would 
come  to  life  to  make  things  worse.  New  chicks 
would  hatch  from  the  brood  of  ignorance. 

Betty  and  Tom  were  both  growing  up  and 
learning  fast.  Betty  took  keen  delight  in  slight- 
ing Tom,  while  Tom,  in  turn,  would  make  fun  of 
the  horse  she  rode.  For  Aron  had  the  best  horses 
in  California,  since  they  were  from  the  finest 
stock  in  Kentucky. 

Betty  would  say  that  she  could  not  help  their 
not  having  good  horses.  To  this  Tom  would  re- 
ply: 

"No,  and  you  can't  help  being  so  far  behind 
in  your  class  either.  You  ain't  got  sense  enough, 
that's  all.  If  your  pa  had  sense  enough,  he  could 
have  good  horses,  too." 

The  next  time  perhaps  Betty  would  have  the 
best  of  the  argument.  Thus  it  went  on  from 
year  to  year,  going  from  bad  to  worse.  The  en- 
tire community  was  equally  divided,  the  children 
—42— 


THE  WEAKNESS  OF  ANGER 

of  course,  taking  the  stand  of  their  parents.  The 
children  quarreled  so  much  and  so  violently  that 
the  good  preacher  was  compelled  to  divide  the 
school,  one  faction  on  one  side  of  the  room,  the 
other  faction  on  the  opposite  side. 

This  did  not  end  the  trouble,  for  there  were 
shoving  and  pushing  between  the  factions  while 
they  were  coming  in  or  going  out  of  the  build- 
in^;,  until  it  finally  became  necessary  to  close  the 
center  door  and  have  a  separate  entrance  for  each 
faction  to  keep  them  apart.  Finally  an  agreement 
was  made  that  Betty  was  to  leave  school  thirty 
minutes  before  Tom,  as  they  quarreled  so  much 
upon  the  way  home.  Besides,  even  if  they  did 
not  quarrel,  their  parents  would  not  permit  them 
to  ride  together. 

None  of  the  children  were  doing  well  in 
school.  They  looked  bad  and  under-nourished, 
wliich  they  were.  The  child  must  get  part  of  his 
n(  urishment  through  his  mind,  and  pleasant  Con- 
di dons  make  a  child's  mind  healthly. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

«A  MAN'S  THE  MAN  HE  IS  TODAY." 

NE  day  Aron  took  Susan  out  into  the 
lot  back  of  the  house  and  pointed  to  au 
object  lying  upon  the  ground.  It  was  a 
newly-born  colt. 
"There,"  said  Aron,  "is  the  last  and  only  de- 
scendant of  that  famous  old  Kentucky  thorough- 
bred Charley.  Only  for  the  daring,  strength  and 
good  horse  sense  of  old  Charley,  we  would  never 
have  gotten  here.  Do  you  remember,  Susan, 
what  a  big  load  we  had?  Salt,  ammunition  and 
cloth  enough  to  last  twenty  years,  besides  other 
things. 

You  remember  how  old  Charley  used  to 
pull  that  load  and  how  we  used  a  fresh  horse 
every  day  beside  him,  as  no  other  horse  could 
stand  that  work  every  day  except  old  Charley. 
And  how  we  used  to  chain  back  old  Charley's 
end  of  the  double-tree  when  we  came  to  bad 
ditches,  muddy  places  and  steep  hills,  so  that  he 
could  pull  most  of  the  load  without  pulling  the 
other  horse  back  under  the  wheels?  When  we 
had  passed  all  signs  of  inhabitants,  you  remem- 
ber how  we  used  to  save  what  grain  we  had  to 
feed  the  other  horse  that  worked  beside  old 
Charley. 

Then  some  nights  I  would  have  to  ride  him 
part  of  the  night  to  fight  off  the  wild  animals 
—44— 


"A  MAN'S  THE  MAN  HE  IS  TODAY" 

that  were  trying  to  eat  up  our  young  cattle.  He 
wa;3  the  only  horse  we  had  that  was  not  afraid. 
He  would  stand  face  to  face  with  a  panther  that 
was  ready  to  spring.  I  could  lay  the  gun  right 
do\m  between  his  ears  and  shoot  and  he  would 
ne^^er  move  a  muscle.  We  often  wondered  how 
he  could  stand  all  the  hardships  he  did  and  al- 
ways seem  willing  to  do  more;  and  no  one  ever 
toi  ched  old  Charley  with  a  whip. 

"One  thing  that  saved  him,  he  was  smart. 
At  night  when  I  unhitched  him,  just  as  soon  as 
I  s  ot  the  bridle  off  he  would  grab  for  something 
to  eat.  I  would  have  to  follow  him  to  get  the 
rest  of  the  harness  off.  He  would  eat  grass, 
leaves,  bark,  limbs,  anything  that  came  within 
his  reach.  I  have  seen  him  bite  off  limbs  as  big 
as  my  little  finger  and  eat  them  right  down. 
Then  just  before  daylight,  he  would  lie  down  and 
rest,  his  nose  upon  the  ground,  and  take  his  little 
nap.  By  daylight  he  would  be  fresh  and  ready 
for  the  day. 

"But  poor  old  Charley  had  to  leave  us.  Yet 
he  is  not  dead,  Susan,  for  he  lives  in  that  colt. 
There  is  no  more  difference  between  old  Charley, 
when  he  was  bom  thirty  years  ago,  and  that 
youngster,  than  there  is  between  two  black-eyed 
peas." 

Just  then  the  youngster,  as  they  called  him, 
arose  for  the  first  time  and  stood  there  upon  his 
wobbly,  bending  legs  with  a  sort  of  seasick  move- 
ment, he  turned  toward  them,  looking  down  at 


SILENT 

the  ground  with  about  as  much  expression  as  a 
toy  lamb. 

The  youngster's  mother,  sired  by  old  Charley, 
walked  over  to  the  colt  and  with  her  nose  di- 
rected him  to  a  good  place  to  eat.  There  he 
started  his  first  meal,  switched  his  tail  for  the 
first  time,  sneezed  and  did  several  little  things  to 
show  that  he  was  a  real  horse.  His  mother  lookd 
him  over,  nosed  him  about,  licked  his  hair  out 
straight  where  it  was  turned  the  wrong  way,  and 
then  stood  off  with  a  look  of  approval,  as  if  to  say: 

"You  are  the  grandest  thing  that  any  moth- 
er ever  called  son." 

Just  then  Tom  rode  up  to  the  house,  and  as 
he  alighted,  Aron  walked  slowly  over,  took  Tom  by 
the  arm  and  slowly  led  him  back  to  the  lot  where 
the  two  mothers  were  waiting.  Upon  arriving 
there,  the  father  pointed  to  the  colt  and  said : 

"There  he  is,  about  one  hour  old.  Tom,  you 
have  heard  me  tell  about  the  noble  deeds  of  old 
Charley.  Well,  there  is  old  Charley  bom  over 
again.  I  saw  them  both  come  into  the  world, 
and  there  is  no  difference  whatever  in  the  two. 
Take  him,  Tom,  my  boy,  he  is  yours.  Of  course, 
everything  we  have  is  yours,  Tom,  but  this  is  a 
personal  gift  beforehand;  and  it  may  be  the 
greatest  gift  of  all,  for  a  good  horse,  my  boy,  is 
the  most  true  and  everlasting  friend  of  man." 

A  few  days  later  the  postmaster,  who  was  on 
Aron's  side  in  the  neighborhood  quarrel,  came  out 
to  tell  Aron  that  he  knew  of  a  ranch  hand  in  case 
Aron  still  wanted  one.     Aron  decided  that,  as 


"A  MAN'S  THE  MAN  HE  IS  TODAY" 

Tom  was  going  to  school  and  he  would  have  to 
keep  a  sharp  look  out  to  protect  his  cattle  from 
now  on,  he  would  go  down  to  the  store  and  see 
the  man. 

Riding  back  with  the  postmaster,  the  lat- 
ter said  that  the  man  had  come  there  and  asked 
for  work. 

"And,"  said  the  postmaster,  "he  nearly  looked 
through  me,  so  I  says  to  myself.  That  fellow  is 
honest.'  Then  I  thought  about  you  needin'  some- 
body, and  came  to  get  you." 

As  they  rode  along  Aron  asked  about  the 
neighbors  and  especially  about  the  preacher. 
Speaking  of  him,  the  postmaster  said: 

"Say,  Aron,  that  preacher  is  the  best  man  I 
ever  saw.    Wife  just  like  him." 

They  pulled  up  to  the  store  and  went  in  to 
interview  the  man  who  wanted  work.  Aron  ex- 
plained that  the  wages  would  be  fair;  that  the 
man  would  have  a  good  home ;  that  he  wanted  the 
man  who  worked  for  him  to  be  one  of  the  fam- 
ily; and  that  they  would  treat  him  as  such.  Ev- 
erything suited  the  new  man  and  they  started  for 
Aron's  home. 

On  the  way  back  to  Aron's  the  new  hand 
heard  the  story  of  the  factional  difficulties.  Aron 
related  everything  that  had  happened  so  far  and 
all  that  he  expected  might  happen  in  the  future. 
When  Mr.  Bear  was  telling  his  story  he  noticed 
the  man's  face  light  up  with  a  peculiar  bright- 
ness, he  noticed  his  eyes  were  staring  straight 
ahead  with  a  hard  and  stem  determination,  while 
—47— 


SILENT 

his  face  was  making  a  positive  effort  to  smile 
pleasantly.  Aron  did  not  understand  this  double 
expression  and  wondered  what  it  could  mean,  as 
he  had  never  seen  a  look  of  that  kind  on  a  man's 
face  before,  but  Aron  Bear  was  not  the  man  who 
would  interest  himself  in  the  past  or  future  of 
anyone  so  he  immediately  discarded  all  thought 
as  to  the  cause  of  that  peculiar  look  on  the  man's 
face.  And  as  Aron's  story  was  finished  the  two 
men  rode  on  in  silence. 

After  a  few  days  at  the  Bear  home,  he  was 
satisfied.  He  liked  Mr.  Bear  better  than  any  man 
he  had  met  for  a  long  time,  for  Aron  asked  few 
questions.  He  asked  Aron  if  he  wanted  to  know 
his  name  and  an  account  of  his  past.  Aron  an- 
swered him  by  saying: 

"Bygones  and  futures  are  nothing  to  me. 
A  man  is  the  man  he  is  today.  The  has-beens  and 
will-be's  are  histories  and  speculations." 

Every  night,  when  supper  was  ready,  Mrs. 
Bear  would  tell  Aron  to  bring  "that  silent  gentle- 
man" in  to  supper.  From  that  he  took  the  name 
of  "Silent."  In  a  short  time  they  were  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  "silent  gentleman,"  and  they  in 
turn  thought  a  great  deal  of  him.  After  supper 
he  would  never  sit  down  until  he  had  helped  Mrs. 
Bear  finish  her  kitchen  work. 

Tom,  almost  a  young  man  now,  took  the 
new  hand  out  into  the  back  lot  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible, showed  him  the  colt,  and  explained  that 
this  colt,  which  belonged  to  him,  was  a  direct 
—48— 


THE  LIGHTS  IN  THE  VALLEY 

decendant  from  one  of  the  best  breeds  of  horses 
that  Kentucky  had  ever  raised. 

"What  do  you  think  of  him,  Mr.  Silent 
Gentleman/*  asked  Tom. 

Tom  had  added  "'Gentleman"  because  he 
\^  anted  a  good  report.  By  that  time  the  colt  had 
come  to  Tom  and  stuck  his  head  under  Tom's  arm, 
and  they  were  both  looking  at  the  Silent  Gentle- 
man for  an  answer.  The  latter  looked  the  colt 
over  carefully  and  said: 

"That  is  the  most  perfect  specimen  of  a  horse 
that  I  have  ever  seen." 

And  by  these  words,  which  were  true.  Silent 
had  made  another  dear  friend  in  the  Bear  fam- 
ily. 

Tom  showed  the  colt  off  in  every  way  he 
could,  got  on  his  back,  crawled  between  his  legs, 
and  shook  hands  with  him  every  few  minutes. 
The  colt  was  just  as  anxious  to  show  off  as  Tom 
was  to  show  him,  until  the  Silent  Gentleman  de- 
cided that  it  was  time  to  go  back  to  the  house. 
But  Tom  was  not  ready.  He  wanted  to  know 
what  the  Silent  Gentleman  would  call  the  colt  if 
he  were  the  owner.  The  silent  one  named  over  all 
the  horse  names  he  could  think  of,  but  none  suited 
Tom.  The  colt  and  Tom  were  still  making  much 
over  each  other  when  Silent  asked, 

"What  sires,  or  forefathers,  did  this  colt 
have  that  were  worthy  of  their  names?  How 
many  of  them  left  good  records?" 

"Well,"  answered  Tom,  "one  of  them,  his 
grandad,  could  almost  talk,  my  father  says,  and 


SILENT 

only  for  him  we  never  would  have  reached  Cali- 
fornia." 

"What  was  that  horse's  name?"  asked  Silent. 

"Charley,"  replied  Tom. 

Silent  thought  for  some  minutes  before  he 
answered.  Then  he  said  that  he  had  never  in  all 
his  life  known  a  horse  by  that  name  that  was 
not  a  good  horse. 

Leaving  Silent,  Tom,  full  of  pep,  ran  to  the 
house  and  told  his  parents  about  the  name,  ask- 
ing their  opinion. 

They  told  Tom  that  "Charley"  had  been 
their  choice  of  names  from  the  first;  but  that 
they  had  said  nothing  about  it  until  he  suggested 
it,  as  they  had  wanted  him  to  name  his  own  colt. 

Tom  ran  out  again,  passing  Silent,  who  was 
coming  back  to  the  house,  as  if  he  did  not  see 
him.  Tom's  eyes  were  centered  upon  another 
pair  of  eyes  in  the  back  lot.  There  they  met,  the 
boy  and  the  colt.  After  their  usual  exchange  of 
hugging  and  kissing  and  shaking  hands,  Tom 
said  : 

"Mister,  your  name  is  Charley !  Charley !  Do 
you  hear?  When  I  call,  ^Charley',  I  want  you  to 
look  around  and  answer." 

Tom  then  stepped  off  and  called : 

"Charley!" 

The  colt  was  always  looking  toward  Tom, 
for  in  his  coltish  mind,  Tom  was  the  greatest  and 
smartest  of  all  human  beings.  And  he  was  very 
anxious  to  learn  all  he  could  from  Tom,  so  he 
looked  and  listened  while  Tom  called,  "Charley," 
—50— 


THE  WORM  OF  BAD  THOUGHT 

After  hearing  the  name  several  times,  the 
colt  pricked  his  ears  up  straight.  Tom  rushed 
to  him,  they  had  a  long  caressing  bout  with  each 
♦)ther,  and  the  colt  began  to  understand  that  there 
was  something  to  the  name  Tom  was  calling. 

The  next  time  Tom  called,  **Charley!"  the 
eolt  again  pricked  up  his  ears  and  again  Tom  ran 
to  him  and  hugged  him,  which  was  what  the  colt 
liked.  In  a  short  time,  when  the  boy  called 
**Charley!"  the  colt  came  to  meet  him  to  get  his 
usual  caresses,  until  finally  it  would  be  a  race 
from  one  to  the  other  when  Tom  would  get  off  a 
distance  and  call. 

On  they  went  until  Tom  would  walk  clear 
across  the  lot  and  call,  "Charley !"  and  here  they 
would  come  on  the  run  to  meet  each  other.  Even- 
tually, Tom  would  stand  still  and  call,  and  the  colt 
would  run  as  hard  as  he  could  go  to  the  boy.  So  the 
teaching  went  on  until  it  grew  dark. 

Then  Mrs.  Bear  called: 

"It's  time  to  go  to  bed.  Tommy." 

After  the  long,  hard  big  hug,  such  as  they 
had  every  night  at  bedtime,  the  two  almost  in- 
separable pals  parted  for  the  night. 

The  family  did  not  go  right  to  bed,  for  when 
Tom  came  in  he  related  everything  that  had 
happened  in  the  lot  between  him  and  the  colt. 
Every  single  step  was  rehearsed,  and  to  the  de- 
light of  the  parents,  the  colt  was  named,  and  he 
knew  his  name  was  "Charley."  ^ 


—61— 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  WORM  OF  BAD  THOUGHT. 

HEN  Dave  Ash  found  out  that  Silent 

was  at  Mr.  Bear's  house,  he  became  very 

suspicious.  Here  is  another  hole  through 

which  the  worm,  "Bad  Thought,"  enters 

he  mind — Suspicion.    And    another    chick  flew 

off  the  brood  of  ignorance. 

Dave  told  his  frends  that  this  new  man  was 
a  sneaky-looking  fellow  who  never  said  nothin', 
but  was  just  lookin'  for  an  excuse  to  shoot  some 
one. 

"And  you  know,"  said  Dave,  "that  ain't  goin' 
to  be  none  of  the  Bears  or  their  kind!  Say,  he's 
a-leamin'  that  boy  to  shoot  with  both  hands,  an' 
no  tellin'  what  else  he's  teachin'  that  triflin'  boy. 
He's  as  mean  as  they  make  'em  without  the  teach- 
in'  of  a  desperado.  Wonder  where  that  feller 
come  from  ?" 

No  one  seemed  to  know,  but  it  was  gener- 
ally understood  that  he  was  a  bad  man,  hired  by 
Aron  to  do  what  meanness  he  could  to  Dave  Ash 
and  his  friends. 

When  Dave  went  home  after  his  usual  round 
of  gossip  about  the  Bears,  he  called  his  family 
to  his  side  and  said : 

"Now  while  I'm  alivin'  and  able  to  talk,  I 
want  both  of  you  to  understand  that,  if  anything 
—52— 


THE  WORM  OP  BAD  THOUGHT 

happens  to  me,  I  want  you  both  to  fight  the  Bears 
as  long  as  you  live.  And  from  now  on,  do  all  the 
mean  things  to  *em  that  you  can.  Talk  about 
*em,  hate  'em  and  get  everybody  else  you  can  to 
hate  'em." 

Then  he  said,  as  if  talking  to  himself: 

"If  I  was  dead  and  my  daughter  or  my  wife 
was  to  speak  to  a  Bear,  I'd  rise  in  my  grave  and 
my  spirit  would  forever  haunt  'em.  I  am  going 
out  of  this  world  with  the  satisfaction  on  my 
mind  that  none  of  mine  ever  spoke  to  a  Bear." 

Then  in  a  hoarse  whisper  he  added: 

"By  God,  I'd  kill  'em!" 

In  the  Ash  family,  it  had  long  been  im- 
pressed upon  the  mother  and  the  daughter  that 
their  one  duty  was  to  hate  and  fight  the  Bear 
family.  This  just  suited  Mrs.  Ash,  and  she  never 
failed  to  impress  upon  newcomers  that  Mrs.  Bear 
was  the  most  "despisable"  woman  that  ever  lived, 
and  that  she  went  to  church  on  Sunday  evenings 
only  to  make  slighting  remarks  about  the  neigh- 
bors.   Said  Mrs.  Ash: 

"She  never  pays  attention  to  what  the 
preacher  says — ^just  looks  around  for  something  to 
make  trouble  over." 

And  the  mother  and  daughter  did  just  as 
they  were  told. 

Tom  was  growing  into  manhood  very  fast, 
and  the  colt  Charley  was  growing  up  too.  Silent 
and  Tom  were  great  pals  and  Tom  was  learning 
to  shoot  right-  and  left-handed.  The  grizzlies 
were  coming  down  from  the  mountains  and  tak- 
—53— 


SILENT 

ing  the  cattle.  Silent  knew  that  every  year  there 
would  be  more  of  them  to  battle  with;  so  he  be- 
gan training  Tom  to  shoot. 

The  man  who  puts  a  grizzly  out  of  business 
without  getting  into  real  danger,  must  shoot  fast, 
straight  and  from  many  angles.  For  the  first, 
shot  that  Mr.  Grizzly  hears  or  feels,  he  is  after 
you  right  now.  It  takes  a  horse  to  outrun  a 
wounded  grizzly.  So  the  only  way  to  finish  him 
is  to  turn  in  the  saddle,  while  the  horse  is  running 
from  him,  face  the  grizzly  and  shoot  until  he  is 
done  for.  Silent  had  told  Tom  all  this  and  had 
promised  that,  when  Tom  was  a  man  and  Charley 
a  big  horse,  he  would  take  them  to  the  mountains 
to  fight  the  grizzly  bears. 

Mr.  Bear  was  not  so  much  interested  in  what 
Tom  was  doing  as  he  was  in  what  the  Ash  family 
were  saying.  Every  word  that  he  heard  he  would 
repeat  to  Susan  and  Tom.  The  boy  was  told  every 
day  that  he  must  speak  about  them  to  others,  but, 
on  penalty  of  death,  he  must  not  speak  to  nor 
look  at  one  of  the  "dirty-mouthed  things."  Again 
and  again  Tom  was  reminded  of  the  "nasty  lies" 
Mrs.  Ash  had  spread  about  his  mother. 

And  poor,  dear  old  Susan  Bear,  the  upright 
standard  of  patience,  tumbled  over.  And  the  other 
guy-wire  snapped  from  the  anchor  of  harmony. 

"When  I  see  that  nasty-talking  old  thing 
next  Sunday,"  said  Susan,  "I  am  going  to  scratch 
her  dirty  old  face !" 

"Don't  you  do  it,"  said  Aron  commandingly. 

Then  he  called  their  son  and  told  them  this : 
—54— 


"A  MAN'S  THE  MAN  HE  IS  TODAY" 

"Never  let  your  hands  touch  such  dirty  filth. 
I  would  rather  die  right  here  than  see  one  of  my 
own  touch  the  body  of  such  a  vile  thing  as  one  of 
the  Ash  family." 

The  Ashes  spread  the  story  that  the  Bears 
v/ere  so  quarrelsome  back  East,  that  they  had  to 
leave.  And  the  Bears  said  that  the  Ashes  were 
afraid  to  tell  why  they  had  left,  and  the  reason 
v/as  worse  than  that.  Mrs.  Bear  was  into  the 
fray  now  and  she  said  all  she  could  to  hurt  the 
Ashes.  The  holes  were  all  open — spite,  hate,  sus- 
picion, inquisitiveness,  the  worms,  Bad  Thoughts, 
were  entering  the  mind  from  four  sides.  And  the 
brood  of  ignorance  was  hatching  evil  thoughts, 
which  were  spreading  spite  and  hate.  Would  it 
be  possible  to  check  them  ? 

No,  it  had  gone  too  far.  Only  a  miracle  could 
happen  to  stop  the  trouble,  and  in  Aron's  worried 
mind,  there  were  no  miracles.  No,  nothing  could 
check  it.  So  Aron  decided  to  move  from  the  old 
liome  that  was  so  dear  to  them  all  and  find  a  new 
one.  He  could  not  go  west  because  there  was 
nothing  but  mountains  and  mining  camps  in  that 
direction,  so  he  decided  to  go  east  to  look  for  a 
new  home. 

By  this  time,  Silent  was  taking  care  of  ev- 
erything. There  could  be  no  stronger  friendship 
;han  that  which  he  had  shown,  so  that  it  was  safe 
bO  leave  him  to  look  after  the  place.  Aron  packed 
one  horse,  rode  another  and  started  out  to  hunt 
for  a  new  home.  He  did  not  tell  the  family  his 
—55— 


SILENT 

plans,  but  just  said  that  he  was  hunting  for  some- 
thing. 

The  first  day  he  rode  about  thirty-five  miles 
and  made  camp  in  a  broad  valley,  which  looked  to 
be  a  continuation  of  Pleasant  Valley.  There  were 
sharp  and  high  points  in  the  mountains  on  each 
side  of  the  valley.  That  night  he  sat  upon  his 
blankets  with  nothing  to  do  but  watch  the  moun- 
tain tops.  It  was  getting  late,  but  he  was  not 
sleepy,  so  he  watched  and  dreamed,  when  sud- 
denly, like  a  comet,  something  appeared.  First 
there  was  a  greenish  hue,  then  a  red,  and  it  was 
all  over.  Then  it  would  appear  again.  What  could 
it  be?  He  watched  it  the  third  time.  It  must 
be  somebody,  as  it  looked  like  some  person  wav- 
ing a  small  light  in  a  semi-circle  over  his  head. 
But  what  for?  As  he  was  thinking  this  over, 
another  flash,  just  like  the  others  came  from  an- 
other mountain-top  opposite  and  then  all  was  dark 
and  still. 

There  he  sat  upon  his  blankets  between  two 
somethings  or  nothings.  What  was  it?  Was 
there  to  be  no  peace  on  earth  hereafter? 

Next  morning  he  went  on  farther,  but  as  he 
traveled  on,  everything  looked  barren  and  dry. 
After  a  week's  journey,  he  decided  that  the  only 
place  that  he  had  found  fit  to  live  in  was  the  place 
where  he  had  seen  the  mysterious  lights  waving. 

"Well,"  thought  Aron,  "maybe  it  was  noth- 
ing after  all." 

As  Aron  Bear  feared  nothing,  he  determined 
to  go  back  and  try  to  find  out  what  the  lights 
—56— 


t 


THE  WORM  OF  BAD  THOUGHT 

meant.  So  he  returned  and  camped  out  at  the 
same  place.  At  the  same  time  that  night,  the 
same  thing  happened.  He  said  to  himself,  "I  am 
going  to  see."  Early  the  next  morning,  he  went 
up  to  the  mountain-top  where  he  had  seen  the 
lights  waving,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  anyone. 

He  went  to  the  opposite  mountain-top,  but 
still  found  no  sign.  That  night  he  again  camped 
upon  the  same  spot  and  the  same  thing  hap- 
pened, the  lights  came  on  and  went  out  as  before. 
Si  ill  he  watched,  and  suddenly  on  the  high  ridge 
coming  down  from  the  mountain-top,  he  saw,  be- 
tween him  and  the  blue  sky,  the  form  of  a  horse 
with  a  rider  on  it.  Now  he  believed  that  he  was 
unintentionally  interfering  with  some  spirit  body 
or  meeting,  and  that  one  of  the  members  v/as 
coming  down  to  order  him  to  move  on. 

"Well,"  said  Aron  to  himself,  "I  will  be  here 
when  that  gentleman  or  whatever  it  is,  gets  here. 
He  will  not  have  to  run  to  catch  me,  I  promise 
him  that." 

And  he  waited  patiently  for  the  meeting  that 
did  not  come. 

In  a  short  time  he  noticed  the  same  thing 
a^^ain,  the  outlines  of  another  man  on  a  horse 
on  that  high  ridge,  coming  slowly  toward  him.  He 
waited  again.  Everything  was  still,  but  he  could 
hc^ar  no  sound  from  the  rider,  who  disappeared 
in  the  same  place  as  the  first.  Again  the  form  of 
a  mounted  rider  appeared,  again  Aron  waited  and 
watched,  and  again  rider  and  horse  disappeared  in 
the  same  place  and  in  the  same  way. 
—57— 


SILENT 

Mr.  Aron  Bear  was  now  worked  up  as  he 
had  never  been  before.  It  seemed  that  the  only- 
place  left  for  him  to  settle  in  was  haunted  by- 
ghostly  figures  and  peculiarly  colored  lights  that 
seemed  to  wave  a  warning  for  him  to  leave.  Could 
it  be  possible  that  the  Ashes  had  brought  a  curse 
upon  him?  It  must  be,  for  he  knew  that  the 
forms  he  saw  could  not  be  men.  It  would  be  im- 
possible to  think  that  three  men  would  ride  in 
such  a  manner  at  that  time  of  night — so  slowly 
and  so  far  apart,  with  only  the  blue  sky  to  reflect 
their  outlines  to  him,  and  then  all  disappear  in 
the  same  place.  No,  it  was  either  imagination  or 
ghosts.  Anyway  he  would  go  up  in  the  morning 
and  see. 

When  he  arrived  on  the  ridge  in  the  morn- 
ing, there  were  the  tracks  of  the  three  horses,  all 
diflterent,  and  all  freshly  shod.  He  followed  the 
tracks  to  where  he  thought  the  horses  had  dis- 
appeared the  night  before,  and  there  the  tracks 
vanished  with  no  further  trace  to  be  found. 

Aron  was  bewildered;  he  was  afraid  to  trust 
himself;  he  knew  that  constant  quarreling  for 
years  had  weakened  him  in  mind  and  body ;  and  he 
feared  that  he  had  begun  to  break  down.  He 
would  go  back  home  and  tell  his  friends.  If  they 
thought  enough  of  it  they  could  investigate. 

When  Aron  reached  home  he  told  his  friends 
about  what  he  had  seen,  and  they  were  very  much 
interested.  They  wanted  to  see  the  thing  for 
themselves;  so  they  made  up  a  large  party  and 
went  to  the  place  to  which  Aron  had  directed 
—58— 


THE  WORM  OF  BAD  THOUGHT 

them.  They  found  it  easily  and  stayed  there  for 
several  days  and  nights,  but  nothing  happened, 
not  a  sound,  not  a  light.  It  soon  became  mon- 
otonous and  they  all  returned  home,  mumbling  to 
themselves,  with  about  the  same  opinion  of  Aron 
that  he  had  of  himself. 

Aron  was  more  disturbed  than  ever  when  his 
friends  told  him  that  there  was  nothing  there, 
for  he  was  very  anxious  for  them  to  see  the  same 
thing  that  he  had  seen.  Thinking  it  over,  he  said 
to  himself: 

"What  must  my  nez-chbors  think  of  me  for 
having  such  illusions,  and  for  having  caused  them 
to  make  the  useless  trip  I  have?" 

He  wanted  to  talk  about  it,  as  it  would  not 
lea\e  his  mind.  He  decided  that  the  one  person 
he  could  talk  to,  who  would  not  repeat  what  he 
said,  was  Silent.  He  also  knew  that  the  man  was 
true  and  trustworthy  and  would  talk  to  him  about 
it.  He  started  to  unravel  his  mysterious  and 
ghostly  yarn  to  Silent,  who  listened  very  intently, 
as  was  his  custom.  But  Mr.  Bear  talked  so  much 
about  it  that  Silent,  like  the  neighbors,  began  to 
wonder  if  it  was  not  Aron's  mind  instead  of  little 
lights  and  ghostly  forms,  riding  slowly  and  sil- 
ently. 

Silent,  in  all  his  life,  had  never  had  a  friend 
of  whom  he  thought  as  much  as  he  did  of  Aron 
Bear.  Could  it  be  that  the  poor  man  was  losing 
his  mind  on  account  of  the  continued  trouble  be- 
tween him  and  Dave  Ash  ?  He  knew  it  was  pos- 
sibla,  as  everyone  should  know.  But  Silent  was  a 
—59— 


SILENT 

deep  thinker ;  he  thought  of  many  different  things ; 
and  finally  he  decided  to  outfit  himself  well,  go  to 
the  place  where  Mr.  Bear  has  seen  the  myster- 
ious happenings,  and  stay  there  long  enough  to 
find  out  if  there  was  anything  there  to  see.  To 
find  out  what  it  was  or  to  remain  there  forever 
was  the  promise  of  a  Man  to  himself.  If  there  was 
nothing  to  be  found,  then  he  would  come  back  and 
tell  Mr.  Bear  that  he  had  seen  the  same  thing 
himself,  and  that  the  ghost  had  warned  him  to  go. 
Then  they  could  all  leave  and  find  another  place, 
where  peace  and  quiet  would  bring  Mr.  Bear's 
mind  back  to  him. 

The  very  next  morning  Silent  left,  prepared 
to  stay  for  the  finish,  if  there  was  to  be  such  a 
thing  as  a  finish  to  it.  After  he  had  been  gone 
for  two  days,  Mr.  Bear  began  to  get  nervous.  He 
talked  with  Susan  and  Tom,  and  they  all  prayed 
for  Silent  and  for  his  success.  Aron  would  say, 
night  after  night: 

"I  do  hope  he  will  stay  to  find  out  what  it  is 
and  all  about  it." 

Then  Tom  spoke  up  and  said: 

"Stay?  Why  father,  don't  you  know  Silent? 
He  finishes  everything  that  he  starts.  Whenever 
he  starts  anything  he  can't  finish,  that  will  be  the 
end  of  Silent.  One  time.  Father,  when  he  was 
showing  me  how  to  kill  a  grizzly  and  our  horses 
were  running  away  from  the  bear.  Silent  was 
turned  backward  in  his  saddle,  shooting,  when  he 
ran  out  of  cartridges  and  had  no  more  in  his  belt. 
He  jumped  off  his  horse,  pulled  out  his  pocket- 
—60— 


THE  WORM  OF  BAD  THOUGHT 

knife,  and  waited  for  that  grizzly  to  come  on.  It 
would  have  been  a  fight  to  the  death  only  that  the 
grizzly  dropped  dead  before  it  reached  Silent,  He 
had  shot  that  bear  more  than  twenty  times,  and 
he  was  determined  to  finish  the  job  or  die  in  the 
attempt.  I  didn't  say  anything  to  you  at  the  time, 
Fa  :her,  as  he  had  asked  me  not  to.  There  is  one 
thing  Silent  hates,  and  that  is  for  someone  to  brag 
about  him  or  praise  what  he  has  done." 


—61— 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  LIGHTS  IN  THE  VALLEY. 

I  WO  weeks  had  passed  and  Aron  was  dis- 
heartened. He  began  to  fear  that  if  Si- 
lent had  found    anything,    he  had  met 

with  his  master.    One  morning,  shortly 

before  daylight,  someone  outside  shouted: 

"Hello,  Mr.  Bear!" 

Aron  arose  and  asked: 

"Who's  there?" 

And  as  he  recognized  Silent's  voice,  he  said : 

"Well,  God  bless  you!  Come  in  and  tell  us 
all  about  it,  for  I  know  you  have  done  what  you 
went  to  do." 

"Yes,"  said  Silent,  "I  did.  Wake  up  the 
missus  and  the  boy.    I  want  them  to  hear." 

When  the  mother  and  Tom  and  Aron,  all  in 
night  clothes,  signified  that  they  were  ready  to 
hear.  Silent  began  his  wonderful  story.  He  told 
them  he  had  gone  to  the  identical  spot  to  which 
Aron  had  directed  him,  and,  at  the  same  time  at 
night,  he  had  seen  the  same  lights  and  also  the 
answering  light  on  the  other  side  of  the  valley. 
He  sat  there  until  daylight,  but  did  not  see  nor 
hear  anything  more.  No  horses  nor  forms  had 
appeared  that  night. 

He  slept  the  next  day,  and  at  the  same  time 
the  next  night,  the  lights  appeared.  He  watched 
night  after  night  until  the  horses  did  appear.  But 
—62— 


THE  LIGHTS  IN  THE  VALLEY 

only  one  horse,  with  the  outlines  of  a  rider,  walked 
slowly  and  quietly  down  the  high  ridge.  He  fol- 
lowed this  horse  to  the  end  of  the  ridge,  where  it 
vanished  as  if  swallowed  by  the  earth.  He  waited 
night  after  night  until  other  horses  appeared  up- 
on the  ridge,  and  he  followed  them  closer  each  time 
to  the  place  where  they  vanished.  At  last  he  dis- 
covered they  were  going  into  a  cave  in  the  moun- 
tain. Then  he  crawled  upon  his  belly  like  a  snake 
every  night  to  get  closer  to  the  entrance  to  that 
cave.  Night  after  night  he  crawled  closer  and 
closer  until  he  knew  every  loose  rock  or  stick  that 
would  make  a  noise  if  he  touched  it.  He  was 
sure  that  it  meant  failure  if  he  was  discovered; 
and  failure  meant — death!  He  was  sure  that 
there  were  no  such  things  as  ghosts,  so  these 
must  be  men;  and  they  must  be  desperate  men 
and  many  of  them  while  he  was  only  one.  Yet  he 
must  find  out  about  them  in  some  way. 

Throwing  all  care  aside,  he  crawled  closer  and 
listened,  and  as  he  listened,  it  occurred  to  him 
that  if  these  men  had  a  dog,  he  was  doomed.  Men 
who  lived  in  caves  like  this  were  going  to  kill 
whatever  molested  them.  So  after  resting  a  short 
time,  he  would  lift  his  body  with  his  hands,  which 
were  covered  with  sacks  to  keep  from  making 
tracks,  and  boost  himself  a  little  closer  to  the 
cave. 

He  could  not  crawl  now,  as  that  might  make 
a  noise,  and  noise  meant  death.  Once  more  he 
boosted  his  body  with  his  hands,  only  to  find  that 
he  was  not  near  enough  to  hear. 

—63— 


SILENT 

Again  he  raised  himself,  not  daring  to  breathe 
for  fear  of  making  that  fatal  noise;  he  boosted 
himself  once  more  and  listened.  Now  he  could  hear 
and  he  did  not  want  to  breathe  when  he  heard, 
as  the  dreadful  realization  of  his  mission  was 
learned.  Then  he  crawled  back  to  his  camp  and 
prepared  for  the  following  night  which  would 
be  his  last  on  earth,  for  all  that  he  knew. 

The  next  night  at  the  appointed  time,  he 
was  prepared.  Secreting  himself  on  a  blind  trail 
which  led  from  the  mouth  of  the  cave  to  the  sharp 
mountain- top,  where  the  first  lights  had  been  seen, 
he  lay  crouching  and  waiting.  There  was  no  sound, 
but  he  watched  and  listened  for  the  man  he  knew 
was  coming  along  that  trail.  Soon  a  shadow  ap- 
peared, and  then  the  form  of  a  man.  Slowly  and 
noiselessly  the  man  came  and  when  he  was  right 
upon  and  above  Silent,  the  latter  rose,  with  a  shin- 
ing gun  in  each  hand,  and  commanded  in  a  whis- 
per: 

"Stick  'em  up!" 

The  man  put  up  his  hands  and  without  much 
alarm  asked : 

"What  do  you  want?" 

Continuing  his  story,  Silent  said  that  he  ex- 
plained that  he  had  pulled  off  a  robbery  and  was 
getting  away;  and  that  if  the  person  he  was  ac- 
costing was  not  an  officer,  there  would  be  no  harm 
done ;  but  the  fellow  would  have  to  show  him.  To 
this  the  man  replied: 

"Follow  me  and  I  will  show  you." 

"I  followed  him  to  the  top  of  the  mountain," 


THE  LIGHTS  IN  THE  VALLEY 

continued  Silent,  "and  the  fellow  explained  that 
he  was  one  of  the  lookouts  for  Headquarters.  He 
seemed  to  be  quite  anxious  to  answer  any  ques- 
tion, and  I  had  begun  to  think  how  easy  it  had 
been  to  capture  one  of  the  lookouts,  pretend  to 
him  that  I  was  an  outlaw,  and  get  all  the  infor- 
mation we  needed,  as  all  the  time  the  fellow  was 
signaling  to  the  other  side  that  the  coast  was 
clear. 

I  was  sitting  on  a  rock  thinking  of  the  best 
way  to  get  rid  of  my  captive  and  had  dropped  my 
eyes  for  an  instant.  When  I  looked  up,  the  muzzle 
of  the  fellow's  45-Colt  was  almost  touching  my 
head.  I  dropped  my  guns  to  the  ground,  but  the 
outlaw  said : 

"  Tick  'em  up  and  put  'em  on.  You're  harm- 
less now,  and  will  be  for  a  long  time  to  come, 
partner.  We'll  learn  you  to  lay  around  in  the 
grass  and  watch  us  for  two  weeks.  I'll  take  you 
to  Headquarters  and  let  you  tell  the  chief  about 
it." ' 

"At  that  he  motioned  me  down  the  hill  to- 
ward the  mouth  of  the  cave.  I  was  so  anxious  to 
see  the  inside  of  that  den  that  I  was  satisfied  to 
take  the  punishment  for  the  chance  to  investi- 
gate; and  I  kept  telling  myself,  as  he  marched 
me  down,  that  I  would  come  out  all  right  some 
way. 

"As  we  entered  the  cave  the  only  thing  we 

could  see  was  a  cup  of  grease,  with  a  twisted  piece 

of  rag  burning  in  it,  the  rag  acting  as  a  wick  and 

sticking  out  of  the  top.   This  furnished  what  light 

—65— 


SILENT 

there  was  in  the  cave.  There  seemed  to  be  the 
crouching  form  of  a  man  in  every  nook  and  cor- 
ner of  the  den,  which  was  large,  but  very  dirty 
and  without  ventilation;  and  the  stench  was  al- 
most suffocating. 

"They  stood  me  up  in  front  of  the  candle 
and  the  Big  Chief  appeared  from  another  part  of 
the  cave.  He  was  all  bedecked  with  spurs,  chaps, 
belts,  buckles,  pistols,  and  a  Mexican  hat.  'Good 
night,'  said  I  to  myself,  *He  will  be  compelled  to 
shoot  me  to  uphold  his  dignity.' 

"As  he  faced  me,  he  looked  squarely  into  my 
eyes,  and  I  looked  just  as  squarely  into  his.  Then 
he  spoke  in  Mexican,  which  I  understand  well,  and 
commanded  the  others  to  disarm  me,  saying  that 
I  was  not  scared  and  might  shoot.  Before  I  had 
time  to  think,  I  was  covered  and  disarmed.  Then 
he  smiled  and  said  in  Mexican : 

"  *So  you  claim  to  be  a  robber.* 

"I  looked  just  as  blank  as  possible  and  pre- 
tended not  to  understand.  He  said  that  he  could 
not  talk  Englisn,  ana  mat  if  I  could  not  talk 
Mexican,  we  would  have  a  hard  tiip-.  ^ettinp" 
along.  I  could  see  that  he  v/as  very  anxious  to 
convmce  himself  whether  I  could  talk  Mexican  or 
not  and  I  acted  as  much  as  I  could  like  a  person 
who  was  trying  to  understand  but  could  not. 

"Then  he  tried  me  on  some  of  the  most  com- 
mon Mexican  words,  but  still  I  pretended  not  to 
understand.  Then,  as  if  he  was  disgusted,  he  told 
his  comrades  in  Mexican  that  I  was  to  be  shot  at 


THE  LIGHTS  IN  THE  VALLEY 

sunrise,  and  asked  if  anyone  of  them  wanted  the 
job.    No  one  answered. 

"  Well/  he  says,  'that  leaves  it  to  me,  and 
as  I  don't  get  up  that  early,  I  will  do  it  now,'  and 
drew  his  gun. 

"I  could  see  that  he  had  been  watching  me 
very  closely  while  he  was  making  this  talk.  When 
he  had  finished  with  the  talk  and  the  gun  play, 
he  had  fully  decided  that  I  could  not  speak  his 
language.  Then  he  began  to  speak  good  English 
to  me,  and  after  talking  considerable,  he  said: 

"  *By  the  way,  I  don't  think  you  talk  English, 
either.' 

"I  told  him  I  would  answer  any  questions  he 
wished  to  ask.  So  he  asked  them  all  at  one  time 
and  I  answered  them  all  at  once. 

"I  told  him  that  I  had  robbed  a  mining  camp 
about  forty  miles  from  there,  and  that,  as  the  of- 
ficers and  citizens  were  crowding  me  very  hard, 
I  was  thinking  of  abandoning  my  horse  and  hiding. 
As  the  gold  was  too  heavy  to  carry  on  foot,  I  had 
thrown  it  onto  the  bottom  of  a  creek  and  had 
marked  the  spot.  After  the  weight  was  off  my 
horse  I  had  outrun  them  and  got  away.  I  had 
waited  several  days  and  went  back  for  the  gold, 
but  had  found  a  patrol  watching  on  the  creek. 
Then  I  had  decided  to  get  a  safe  distance  away  and 
wait,  hoping  that,  while  I  was  waiting,  I  might 
find  a  pal  who  would  go  with  me  to  hold  up  that 
patrol  long  enough  for  me  to  get  the  gold. 

**The  Chief  said  in  Mexican  that  the  story 
sounded  good  to  him,  and  some  of  the  others  said 
—67— 


SILENT 

that  it  sounded  0.  K.  to  them,  too.  The  chief 
then  instructed  his  men  to  place  a  strong  guard 
outside  without  letting  me  know  it,  telling  them 
also  to  give  me  my  guns  and  a  good  place  to  sleep 
near  the  mouth  of  the  cave. 

"  *Give  him  plenty  of  chance  to  run,'  he  said, 
*and  by  morning  we  will  find  out.' 

"I  made  no  attempt  to  escape,  but  listened 
all  that  night,  as  some  of  them  were  up  and  talk- 
ing Mexican  nearly  all  night. 

"The  next  morning  the  chief  asked  me  how 
I  had  rested.  I  told  him  that  it  was  the  first  good 
sleep  I  had  had  since  I  had  pulled  the  job.  That 
seemed  to  please  him,  so  I  told  him  that  if  he 
would  send  one  good  man  with  me  to  get  the 
gold,  I  would  cut  it  in  two  with  them.  I  also  told 
him  that  when  we  had  gotten  the  gold,  if  he  would 
let  me  have  five  men.  I  could  make  the  biggest 
haul  that  had  ever  been  made  in  California.  I 
had  everything  spotted,  I  told  him,  that  the  stuff 
was  just  spoiling  for  somebody  to  come  and  get 
it,  laying  right  out  in  plain  sight,  unguarded ;  and 
that  it  seemed  almost  impossible  for  people  to  be 
so  careless  with  money.  The  Big  Chief  grew  very 
serious  and  said: 

"  That  is  just  what  made  me  a  robber.  Leav- 
ing money  out  in  sight  unguarded  is  just  what 
makes  robbers.  Such  careless  people  ought  to  lose 
it  and  they  will  lose  it.' 

"Then  his  manner  changed  to  a  hard  peculiar- 
ity and  he  asked  me  when  I  wanted  to  start. 

"  Tonight,'  I  answered,  *so  as  to  get  there  by 
—68— 


THE  LIGHTS  IN  THE  VALLEY 

daylight  tomorrow  morning.  I  don't  think  I  could 
locate  the  water  hole  at  night/ 

"Just  to  keep  down  suspicion  I  told  him  I 
must  have  a  good  man.    He  answered : 

"  *Don't  worry.  I  am  going  to  send  my  part- 
ner, the  best  in  the  world,  and  I  want  to  caution 
you  that  he  is  suspicious  of  you,  and  doesn't  be- 
lieve your  story  altogether.  Now  if  everything  is 
as  you  say,  it  will  be  all  right ;  but  if  not,  look  out, 
for  he  is  lightning  itself.  He  is  something  like 
you.  He  don't  talk  much,  but  he  hears  and  sees  a 
heap.' 

"That  night  at  dark  we  started.  I  found  the 
partner  to  be  a  tough,  sullen,  suspicious  and  dead- 
shot  hombre.  All  the  time  I  had  planned  on  being 
free  when  I  got  the  privilege  of  leaving  with  one 
man.  But  the  partner  took  full  command  of  this 
expedition.  He  ordered  me  to  ride  in  front  and 
lead  the  way,  but  not  to  look  back.  And  there  he 
kept  me  just  a  little  bit  ahead. 

"I  led  the  way  right  over  the  mountain  to 
the  south,  a  direction  I  had  never  been  before, 
and  into  a  country  I  knew  nothing  about  whatever. 
After  riding  several  miles  south,  I  knew  that  if  I 
did  not  lose  my  keeper  soon,  I  would  be  lost  my- 
self, it  was  so  very  dark. 

"First  I  began  to  call  his  attention  to  differ- 
ent objects  along  the  way,  pointing  to  that  rock 
or  that  large  tree,  and  telling  him  I  remembered 
passing  them  when  I  was  making  my  getaway. 
But  he  fooled  me  right  back  by  saying  that  he  saw 
them,  too,  when  there  was  no  man  on  earth  who 
—69— 


SILENT 

could  have  seen  his  hand  in  front  of  him.  It  was 
black  dark.  Even  the  horses  could  not  see,  but  I 
kept  right  on  showing  him  different  objects,  and 
he  kept  right  on  saying  that  he  saw  them. 

"I  knew  that  he  was  lying,  but  I  did  not  be- 
fieve  he  was  sure  that  I  was.  I  asked  him  if  he 
wanted  to  take  my  guns  until  we  got  to  the 
creek.  But  he  answered  no,  and  said  that  whether 
I  was  right  or  wrong,  he  was  willing  to  take  his 
chances  with  any  man.  I  told  him  I  was  glad  he 
was  that  kind  of  a  man,  and  that  I  hoped  he 
would  head  the  next  expedition  when  we  made 
the  big  haul.  I  also  told  him  that  he  was  the 
first  man  I  had  ever  seen  who  could  see  as  good  as 
I  could  on  a  dark  night,  and  that  doctors  had  ex- 
amined my  eyes  to  see  if  they  could  find  out  why 
I  had  such  unusual  sight  at  night. 

"At  times  I  would  crowd  his  horse  over 
and  at  the  same  time  tell  him  to  look  out  for  that 
pile  of  rocks,  that  snag,  or  some  other  thing.  And 
as  horses  seem  to  have  some  way  of  scenting  dan- 
ger, whenever  I  felt  my  horse  beginning  to  turn 
at  times,  then  is  when  I  would  warn  him  to  look 
out  for  some  imaginary  object  I  would  name. 
Finally  he  admitted  that  I  had  better  eyesight 
than  he  had.  He  complimented  me  on  the  same 
and  said  that  it  was  a  good  thing  to  have  in  our 
business.  From  this  I  could  see  that  I  had  gained 
a  point,  although  he  was  just  as  suspicious  as  ever. 

"We  had  ridden  quite  a  distance  without 
speaking,  when  I  stopped  quickly. 

"  What's  the  matter?'  he  asked. 
—70— 


THE  LIGHTS  IN  THE  VALLEY 

"I  answered  in  a  whisper,  'Don't  you  hear 
voices  T 

"He  said  that  he  did  not,  but  I  kept  saying 
that  I  did.  Every  little  while  I  would  stop  quickly, 
when  he  would  always  ask  aloud,  in  the  black  still- 
ness : 

"What's  the  matter?' 

"To  this  I  would  always  answer  in  the  same 
whisper  that  I  heard  voices  and  would  caution  him 
to  listen.  So  I  kept  on  constantly  reminding  him 
that  I  heard  voices  until  the  echo  of  his  own  voice 
or  the  transference  of  thought  or  something  of 
that  kind  made  him  imagine  that  he  too  heard 
voices ;  and  he  said  that  he  did  hear  them. 

"I  then  told  him  that  the  voices  were  ahead 
of  us  and  began  to  ride  faster,  but  suddenly  I 
dropped  back  and  whispered : 

"There  they  are,  two  of  them.  I  am  going 
to  overtake  them  and  find  out  who  they  are  and 
where  they  are  going." 

"With  the  last  whisper  I  was  going,  first  in 
a  trot,  then  in  a  dead  run,  which  I  kept  up  for 
some  distance.    Then  I  thought: 

"  There  is  no  other  fool  like  me  to  take  such 
a  chance,  running  full  speed  where  even  a  horse 
can  not  see.' 

"And  I  turned  abruptly  to  the  right.  In  a 
few  jumps  my  horse  stumbled  but  did  not  fall, 
I  did  not  say  that,  at  this  time,  we  were  on  the 
edge  of  a  canyon  a  hundred  feet  deep,  but  I  be- 
lieved it  at  this  moment,  and  again  the  thought 
—71— 


SILENT 

of  the  fool  that  I  was  came  to  my  mind.  Then  I 
apologized  to  myself,  saying : 

"  *No,  I  am  not  the  only  fool/ 

"For  at  that  instant  the  partner  was  passing 
me  at  full  speed,  whipping  and  slashing  blindly — 
He  went  on  as  far  as  I  could  hear." 

"What  a  ride,  and  what  a  relief!"  exclaimed 
Aron,  as  he  sank  back  in  his  chair. 

Tom's  eyes  were  clear  out  of  their  sockets 
and  stayed  there. 

"Please  go  on,"  said  Mrs.  Bear. 

"Well,"  said  Silent,  "all  there  is  to  it,  I  got 
over  the  range  of  mountains  into  this  valley,  and 
rode  and  walked  home,  and  here  I  am." 

"But  wait,"  said  Aron,  "What  about  them 
wavin'  lights,  and  them  ghostly-lookin'  figures 
ridin'  so  slowly  and  so  far  apart?" 

"Oh,  I  had  forgotten  that,"  said  Silent.  "The 
night  I  stayed  in  the  cave  there  seemed  to  be 
some  new  robbers,  or  robber  visitors,  and  the  chief 
was  explaining  to  them  in  Mexican  that  there  are 
two  look-outs,  one  on  each  of  the  two  high  points, 
who  survey  every  inch  of  the  country.  If  the 
first  lookout  decides  that  the  coast  is  clear  and 
no  posse  in  sight,  at  nine-thirty  he  lights  one 
large  sulphur  match  and  waves  it  in  a  semi-circle 
over  his  head  three  times,  repeating  the  perfor- 
mance three  times.  Then  if  the  other  lookout 
opposite  decides  that  all  is  well,  he  lights  one 
match  and  waves  it  in  a  half -circle  over  his  head. 
But  if  there  are  a  number  of  people  in  the  valley, 
no  signal  will  be  given.    That  was  the  reason  your 

—72— 


THE  LIGHTS  IN  THE  VALLEY 

neighbors  saw  no  lights.  If  the  second  lookout 
waves  two  matches,  it  is  a  signal  that  something 
is  wrong.  When  the  robbers  who  have  been  out 
on  a  raid  and  are  hunting  cover  come  to  the 
ridge,  they  must  all  stay  in  the  same  place  until 
n  ine-thirty  o'clock.  Then,  if  the  signals  are  right, 
they  must  ride  slowly  and  one  hundred  yards 
aoart;  otherwise  they  cannot  enter  the  canyon 
that  conceals  this  Devils*  Den,  as  they  call  it. 
W^hen  the  posse  left  here,  you  see,  the  lookouts 
did  not  signal  and  there  were  no  lights  shown." 

Aron  jumped  up  and  exclaimed,  "I  am  so 
happy  to  know  that!" 

His  wife  and  son  said  the  same,  and  the  three 
joined  hands  and  danced  a  ring  around  Silent, 
Mrs.  Bear  singing,  "I'm  so  happy !  I'm  so  happy !" 

"Pa,"  said  Tom,  didn't  I  tell  you  he  would 
stay  for  the  finish  ?" 

Just  them  Mrs.  Bear  remarked  that  she 
would  just  as  soon  have  the  bandits  for  neighbors 
as  the  Ashes. 

At  these  words  all  their  glee  stopped.  No 
more  singing,  no  more  dancing.  It  brought  them 
all  back  instantly  to  the  awful  condition  of  hate 
and  horror  they  were  living  in. 


—73— 


CHAPTER  VII. 

GREAT  OAKS  FROM  LITTLE  ACORNS. 

N  order  to  avoid  being  recognized  by 
any  members  of  the  band  from  the 
"Devils'  Den"  who  might  stray  into 
Pleasant  Valley,  Silent  decided  to  hide 
out  for  a  few  days.  He  changed  horses  and  sad- 
dles, shaved,  cut  his  hair,  and  disguised  himself 
in  every  way  possible,  feeling  certain  that  the 
bandits  would  make  some  effort  to  trace  him. 

Dave  Ash  missed  Silent  and  wondered  what 
devilment  he  was  up  to.  Whatever  it  was,  it  was 
aimed  at  him,  and  he  told  his  wife  and  daughter 
that  this  killer  that  the  Bears  had  was  out  trying 
to  slip  in  another  killer.  The  first  thing  they 
knew  there  would  be  a  band  of  robbers  and  cut- 
throats of  the  worst  kind  living  at  Mr.  Aron  Bear's 
house.  If  they  did  not  look  out,  he  said,  some- 
one would  come  up  missing  some  morning,  and 
that  things  had  gone  just  about  as  far  as  they 
were  going  to  with  him. 

Aron  remembered  that,  with  all  his  troubles, 
he  was  still  a  law-abiding  citizen  of  the  United 
States.  His  mind  was  weak  from  quarreling,  but 
he  could  remember  his  duty  to  his  government. 
So  he  wrote  a  letter  to  the  United  States  Marshal 
at  Washington,  D.  C,  notifying  him  of  the  pres- 
ence of  the  outlaws. 

The  department  found  the  letter  to  be  0.  K. 
—74— 


GREAT  OAKS  FROM  LIITLE  ACORNS 

and  informed  the  marshals  acting  in  that  section, 
who,  in  turn,  verified  the  statement,  but  informed 
the  department  that  the  band  was  so  strong  that 
it  would  take  an  army  to  capture  it.  Then  the  gov- 
ernment officials  decided  that  it  would  be  cheaper 
to  go  another  route.  They  offered  a  reward  to  each 
United  States  Marshal  who  captured  any  one  of 
the  robbers,  dead  or  alive.  They  all  got  busy,  but 
they  could  not  get  fhe  bandits — the  place  was 
too  well  guarded. 

Dave  Ash  got  another  hunch  that  they  were 
i^oing  to  kill  him — he  could  feel  it  in  his  bones. 
They  had  sent  and  got  one  bad  man  and  were 
looking  for  another ;  and  when  they  got  the  other, 
zhey  intended  to  "get"  him.  Suddenly  another 
brilliant  thought  struck  him.  Dave  Washburn, 
the  man  he  was  named  after,  and  who  had  been 
an  old  neighbor  back  in  Tennessee,  was  now  a 
United  States  Marshal  in  Texas.  He  would  send 
to  Washburn  for  three  of  the  toughest  despera- 
does in  Texas ;  and  show  Mr.  Bear  something,  just 
to  beat  him  at  his  own  game.  He  laughed  out  loud 
when  the  thought  materialized.  He  told  his  wife 
and  daugther  Betty;  there  was  another  family 
jubilee,  and  they  all  took  a  hand  in  writing  the 
letter.  They  made  it  strong,  saying  that  the  coun- 
try was  grand  and  that  home  would  be  the  best; 
but  as  Ash  did  not  want  to  pay  very  much  wages, 
the  marshal  was  to  get  the  men  as  cheaply  as 
possible. 

When  the  Texas  marshal  got  the  letter,  he 
noticed  before  he  opened  it  that  it  had  come  from 
—75— 


SILENT 

the  postoffice  nearest  the  band  of  outlaws  at  Dev- 
ils' Den,  California.  Expecting  a  notice  that  the 
band  had  been  captured  and  that  the  rewards  were 
off,  he  carelessly  opened  it  and  was  merely  about 
to  look  at  the  name  of  the  marshal  signed  at  the 
bottom,  when  he  noticed  the  closing  signature, 
"Your  Namesake,  Dave  Ash." 

"Well,  now,  that  sounds  different,"  he 
thought,  as  he  read  the  letter  carefully.  He 
thought  for  a  long  time  and  then  remarked  to 
himself: 

"I  know  the  men  he  wants.  Besides  helping 
Dave  out  they  can  pick  these  outlaws  off  one  at  a 
time  and  get  the  rewards;  and  by  ridding  Texas 
of  the  fellows  I  have  in  mind,  it  will  be  another 
asset  to  the  credit  of  Dave  Washburn." 

Every  good  officer  in  every  country  knows  a 
lot  of  fellows,  half-marshals,  half-  outlaws,  who 
are  led  in  the  direction  of  the  best  pay.  Sometimes 
they  arrest  the  taker  and  at  other  times  they  do 
the  taking  themselves.  This  kind  are  without 
doubt  "hard-boiled  eggs."  The  marshal  knew 
them,  as  all  United  States  marshals  do. 
They  know  them  all — it  is  their  business  to  know 
such  fellows.  He  knew^  the  three  to  send;  they 
operated  together  and  were  the  "toughest  babies" 
he  had  ever  known. 

It  was  no  use  to  send  those  men  a  letter  or 
a  wire,  as  he  knew  they  did  not  deal  in  such 
things.  He  must  deal  direct  with  them.  So  he 
sent  a  messenger  to  tell  them  that  Dave  Wash- 
burn wanted  to  see  them  on  urgent  business.  They 
—76— 


GREAT  OAKS  FROM  LITTLE  ACORNS 

came  at  once,  for  they  were  not  afraid  of  Wash- 
burn; he  would  never  double-cross  a  friend. 

When  the  wonderful  story  of  the  outlaws  and 
the  reward  was  made  known  to  them,  they  were 
anxious  to  go.  Washburn  found  that  his  men 
could  go  part  of  the  way  on  the  train.  So  the 
men  shipped  their  three  white  horses,  their  sad- 
dles and  their  guns  as  far  west  as  possible,  in- 
tending to  ride  their  horses  the  rest  of  the  way. 
Meantime  the  Texas  marshal  notified  the  Califor- 
nia marshals  that  he  was  sending  three  deputies 
west,  with  "John  Doe"  warrants  for  the  outlaws, 
and  asked  him  to  co-operate  with  his  men,  who 
would  be  stationed  on  the  ground.  And  Marshal 
Washburn  gave  a  sigh  of  relief,  when  the  three 
men  were  on  their  way. 

Dave  Ash  did  not  realize  how  fast  some  men 
can  work  until  he  got  a  letter  stating  that  his  re- 
quest had  been  filled  to  overflowing  in  the  way 
of  bad  men,  and  cautioning  him  not  to  get  them 
started  unless  he  wanted  a  massacre;  for,  "when 
them  fellers  he  was  sending  got  started,  there  was 
not  enough  people  in  California  to  stop  them." 
Again  there  was  a  dance  of  jubilee — this  time  in 
the  Ash  home. 

Aron  Bear  was  selling  cattle  all  the  time  and 
the  buyer  was  letting  the  stray  ones  steal  into  the 
herd,  the  buyer  of  course  telling  himself,  after 
the  strays  got  into  his  herd,  that  he  did  not  know 
one  from  the  other  and  had  no  time  to  count.  So 
the  strays  were  naturally  driven  away  with  the 
ones  he  had  bought. 

—77— 


SILENT 

Dave  Ash  was  selling  cattle  too,  and  the  buy- 
er was  letting  Dave's  strays  follow  the  herd  in 
the  same  way.  Dave  and  Aron  each  would  have 
a  friend  watching  the  other  to  see  that  the  ani- 
mals they  sold  had  the  right  brand  on.  These 
friends  found  that  the  brands  were  all  right,  still 
both  men  were  losing  cattle.  Neither  Aron  nor 
Dave  knew  enough  to  watch  their  own  herds  to  see 
that  the  buyer  took  only  the  cattle  he  had  pur- 
chased ;  and  each  accused  the  other  of  causing  his 
losses.  There  are  lots  of  people  besides  Dave  and 
Aron  who  fail  to  first  watch  their  own  business. 

Silent  was  still  keeping  himself  well  out  of 
the  way  in  the  mountains.  Tom  was  getting  so 
big  now  that  it  was  not  advisable  to  send  him  to 
school  any  longer.  He  wanted  to  train  the  colt 
Charley.  He  liked  to  go  with  Silent  who  was  a 
great  teacher  of  western  life.  He  had  learned  to 
shoot  at  any  object  that  was  after  him  by  throw- 
ing himself  on  the  side  of  his  horse  and  facing 
whatever  was  in  pursuit.  This  mode  of  fighting 
was  often  necessary  in  killing  the  grizzly  bear. 
He  had  learned  how  to  start  fires  without 
matches;  how  to  backfire  for  protection;  how  to 
suck  the  poison  from  a  wound  made  by  the  rattler ; 
how  to  turn  his  horse's  shoes  backward  to  keep 
from  being  tracked ;  how  to  lie  on  the  side  of  his 
horse  and  shoot  under  his  neck,  using  the  horse's 
body  for  breastworks.  But  this  last  was  coward- 
ly, Silent  had  told  him.  It  was  a  trick  of  the 
Apache  Indian  and  should  not  be  practiced  by 
white  men. 

—78— 


GREAT  OAKS  FROM  LITTLE  ACORNS 

Tom  was  well  educated,  according  to  Silent. 
He  advised  Tom  not  to  ride  Charley,  as  he  thought 
the  colt  might  be  too  young.  Tom  ansv/ered  that 
he  thought  the  same  thing;  but  said  that  if  he 
dii  not  ride  the  colt,  Charley  would  jump  the 
fence  and  come  anyway,  bothering  the  other 
horses,  as  he  is  jealous  of  them.  Continuing,  Tom 
said: 

"If  I  tie  him  up.  Mother  says,  he  just  frets 
himself  sick.  He  is  just  bound  to  be  with  me. 
Night  after  night  I  awaken  and  look  out  of  the 
w  ndow  and  there  he  stands,  looking  right  in  at 
me.  He  is  just  like  a  watch-dog,  and  he  can  jump 
these  fences  just  as  easy  as  your  horse  steps  over 
the  bars.  He  is  as  big  as  your  horse,  and  yet  he  is 
only  three.    Ain't  he  a  dandy?" 

"I  will  say  it  again,"  answered  Silent,  "he  is 
the  most  perfect  horse  that  I  have  ever  seen.  How 
fast  can  he  run,  Tom?" 

"I  have  never  let  him  run  as  fast  as  he  want- 
ed to  yet,  but  he  can  run  so  much  faster  than  the 
other  horses  that  there  is  no  race  to  it,"  answered 
Tom. 

When  they  arrived  home,  the  father  told 
them  that  Dave  Ash  was  circulating  a  story  that 
Silent  was  a  man-killer,  imported  from  Texas,  and 
that  they  v/ere  waiting  for  another  one  from  Tex- 
as whom  they  intended  to  slip  in  to  kill  him  (Dave 
Ash),  and  then  skip  the  country,  so  that  nobody 
would  know  who  did  it.  He  also  said  that  Silent 
and  the  Bears  would  be  somewhere  else  at  the 
—79^ 


SILENT 

time,  so  that  they  could  prove  themselves  in- 
nocent. 

Dave,  knowing  that  his  three  bad  men  were 
coming,  was  trying  to  pave  the  way  for  them; 
for  he  really  expected  that  they  would  clean  out 
the  Bear  family  the  first  day.  So  he  bolstered  his 
story  up  by  talking  of  the  trip  that  Silent  did 
t£.ke,  and  by  saying  that  he  was  still  making  a 
ti  ip  every  now  and  then.  And  as  Silent  was^lay- 
ing  very  low,"  the  story  took  well  with  Dave's 
friends. 

The  preacher,  the  only  sane  man  in  the  com- 
munity, was  praying  and  thinking ;  but  the  affair 
had  grown  to  such  magnitude  that  it  would  take 
years  to  bring  these  people  back  to  their  right 
senses. 

Betty  Ash  was  growing  up  very  old-fashion- 
ed, pret-y  and  lady-like.  She  grew  up,  trained  to 
hate  the  Bears  and  all  of  their  friends;  but  she 
could  not  forget  the  night  coming  from  school 
when  she  had  said  so  many  mean  things  to  this 
boy  that  he  had  run  home  and  cried.  She  would 
ponder,  and  to  herself  she  admitted  that  she 
should  ask  forgivness  for  that  one  mean  thing 
she  had  done.  But  who  would  she  ask?  Not  one 
of  the  Bear  family!  No,  you  bet  she  would  not! 
Even  if  she  did  want  to  she  dare  not ;  for  to  speak 
to  a  Bear  meant  disgrace  forever.  And  that  ended 
it  all  for  Betty. 

Tom  paid  no  attention  to  any  of  the  girls  of 
his  size ;  in  fact,  he  was  so  wrapped  up  in  the  colt 
Charley  that  he  almost  forgot  everything  else. 
— SO — 


GREAT  OAKS  FROM  LITTLE  ACORNS 

But  he  was  a  good  boy  and  also  good-looking  and 
very  quiet  and  gentlemanly.  And  my,  how  he 
loved  that  colt  which  seemed  so  happy  while  in 
Tom's  company  that  they  were  a  picture  to  look 
at!  They  would  play  awhile,  spoon  awhile,  and 
then  do  tricks — and  Charley  had  learned  lots  of 
them. 

Dave  Ash  got  a  letter  that  the  Texans  were 
about  ready  to  land;  so  in  order  to  admit  them 
without  suspicion,  he  asked  everybody  if  they 
knew  of  any  hands  looking  for  work,  pretending 
that  he  wished  to  hire  several.  If  any  men  would 
say  they  wanted  work,  Dave  would  find  fault  with 
them  some  way  and  reject  them,  until  one  day 
the  three  Texans  rode  up  to  the  post  office  and 
asked  for  Dave  Ash.  The  postmaster  directed 
them,  and  then  told  the  Bears  and  their  friends 
of  the  three  tough-looking  bad  men.  And  Dave's 
story  of  wanting  to  hire  hands  was  exposed,  thus 
making  a  bad  situation  much  worse  than  it  should 
have  been. 

Bear's  friends  told  all  about  the  pretended  de- 
sire to  hire  hands,  and  the  arrival  of  the  Texans 
inquiring  for  Dave  Ash ;  but  that  was  told  by  the 
friends  of  the  Bears,  and  nothing  that  came  from 
the  other  side  was  credited  any  longer. 

When  the  three  Texans  were  settled  com- 
fortably and  had  their  bearing  well  in  hand,  the 
leader  handed  Dave  a  letter  from  the  Texas  mar- 
shal, at  the  same  time  saying  that  Mr.  Ash  ought 
to  be  proud  of  the  good  friend  he  had  in  Texas. 
Dave  opened  the  letter  and  in  it  was  a  history  of 


SILENT 

the  outlaw  band  at  "Devils'  Den,"  near  him ;  but 
about  that  he  must  never  say  a  word  for  fear  of 
his  life.  The  letter  added  that  the  three  men 
were  the  worst  of  bad  men,  and  were  all  deputy 
marshals  under  him;  that  the  wages  would  be 
nothing  except  fresh  horses  to  ride  and  a  good 
place  to  eat  and  sleep ;  and  that  the  deputies  would 
sure  be  his  friends  and  help  him  in  every  way 
possible.  Now  all  the  friendship  that  existed  was 
that  the  Texas  marshal  wanted  a  place  to  dump 
these  undesirables  and  to  get  a  cut  in  the  rewards 
if  possible.  And  the  three  Texans  wanted  the  re- 
wards. Dave  Ash  was  not  considered  by  either; 
but  Dave  thought  he  was  the  most  beloved  man 
in  all  the  world.  Everybody  liked  him  except  old 
Bear,  and  he  would  soon  be  out  of  the  way. 

Betty  looked  the  Texans  over  and  decided 
that  Texas  must  be  an  awful  state.  Mrs.  Ash 
was  just  like  her  husband,  which  was  very  notice- 
able, and  she  thought  that  the  Texans  had  arriv- 
ed just  in  time  to  save  the  life  of  her  husband, 
and  maybe  of  the  entire  family.  So  she  treated 
the  Texans  royally  and  demanded  the  same  treat- 
ment from  Betty,  who  was  agreeable,  in  a  way; 
for  she  was  getting  along  now  to  where  she  was 
paying  attention  to  grown  men— that  is,  she  would 
compare  them  in  manners,  politeness,  conversa- 
tion, looks,  and  the  like. 

The  leading  Texan,  equal  to  all  conditions, 
told  Mrs.  Ash  one  day  that  she  had  the  most 
charming  and  pleasing  personality  he  had  ever 
seen  in  a  woman ;  and  that  he  thought  her  daugh- 


GREAT  OAKS  PROM  LITTLE  ACORNS 

ter's  beauty,  grace  and  intelligence  outclassed 
anything  in  the  world.  Mrs.  Ash,  like  many  of 
other  women  who  have  never  been  sufficiently 
flattered  by  their  husbands,  was  so  elated  over  the 
unearned  flattery  that  she  was  almost  on  the  point 
of  being  silly. 

And  the  leader,  wise  old  owl  that  he  was,  kept 
constantly  reminding  her  that  she  and  her  daugh- 
ter were  so  much  alike  in  their  ways  and  even  in 
looks  that  strangers  might  take  them  for  sisters. 
He  pulled  all  that  old-time  stuff,  which  kept  her 
in  a  flurry.  She  just  wondered  how  Dave  had  ever 
run  the  ranch  without  them.  So  every  time  there 
was  an  extra  good  piece  of  meat  upon  the  plat- 
ter, it  was  always  passed  to  the  leader  first,  with 
the  good  piece  next  to  him ;  and  that  man  never 
overlooked  anything  that  came  his  way.  The  Tex- 
ans  got  the  best  of  everything  and,  as  that  was 
what  they  were  accustomed  to,  they  were  satisfied. 
They  stayed  around  the  Ash  home  for  about  two 
weeks,  occasionally  letting  slip  little  darts  of  flat- 
tery until  Mrs.  Ash  had  gotten  just  about  as  silly 
as  they  dared  let  her.  Then  they  began  to  sneer 
and  throw  slurs  at  the  Bear  family,  which  suited 
the  Ash  family  immensely. 

Once  they  rode  up  to  Silent,  who  was  in  front 
of  Bear's  house,  and  made  a  lot  of  insulting  re- 
marks which  Silent  ignored,  as  was  his  custom. 
Then  they  began  to  jeer  at  him.  Each  time  one 
of  the  Texans  would  say  anything,  whether  it  was 
a  sarcastic  remark  or  a  foolish  attempt  at  humor- 
ous slang,  they  would  all  laugh  and  laugh  loudly, 
—83— 


SILENT 

as  if  the  remark  were  intelligent  wit.  At  last  they 
left  Silent,  still  and  motionless,  while  they  rode 
away,  laughing  this  time  at  themselves  for  trying 
to  "kid"  a  half-witted  person.  For  they  really  be- 
lieved that  Silent  did  not  understand  what  they 
said. 

When  they  rode  back  home,  they  said  to  Mr. 
Ash: 

"That  feller  over  thar  hasn't  got  no  sense 
at  all.  He  caint  understand.  Why  he's  locoed  and 
scared  to  death.  You  don't  need  a  gun — ^just  poke 
yore  finger  at  him  an'  he'll  run  hisself  to  death. 
If  that  is  one  of  yore  bad  men,  just  send  yore 
wife  over.    She  can  handle  him  all  right." 

Then  they  left  and  rode  on  down  to  the  post 
office  to  inquire  about  a  package  that  was  coming 
from  New  York  by  train,  pony  express  and  stage. 
They  had  ordered  a  pair  of  the  most  powerful 
field  glasses  made.  But  no  package  had  arrived; 
so  they  went  to  the  "Devils'  Den"  country  to  re- 
connoitre and  locate  the  most  advantageous  place 
from  which  to  watch  the  activities  of  the  outlaws. 
Keeping  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountains  from 
the  valley,  they  would  ride  to  the  top  and  look 
over  until  they  found  a  place  about  two  miles 
away  from  the  den.  Here  they  could  see  it  all 
from  a  safe  distance,  and  as  the  glass  that  was 
coming  would  show  a  man  three  times  as  far,  they 
were  fixed  for  the  rest;  the  rewards  were  sure. 

On  the  way  back,  one  of  the  Texans  chided 
the  leader  for  letting  the  "old  gal"  get  too  sweet 
—84— 


GREAT  OAKS  FROM  LITTLE  ACORNS 

on  hiin,  saying  that  they  might  lose  their  home 
and  good  eats,  and  so  on. 

"Leave  that  to  me,"  said  the  leader,  "I  am 
not  that  foolish  yet.  But  did  you  notice  the 
daughter?  She  is  also  coming  around  my  way. 
Now  you  fellers  ben  a  givin*  me  advice,  let  me 
give  you  some.  You  lay  off  that  gal,  for  I  sure 
think  she's  sweet,  and  she  is  beginning  to  fall 
for  that  old  slush  just  like  her  mother.  If  I  do 
get  her,  I'll  break  her  damn'  neck  if  she  ever  looks 
twice  at  a  feller  that  throws  that  stuff  like  I  do." 

The  next  day  they  changed  horses  and  went 
over  to  the  other  side  of  the  valley.  They  found 
that  there  were  only  three  trails  leaving  the  Den ; 
one  went  to  the  mining  camps,  one  went  to  the 
coast,  and  one  led  to  the  southern  country. 

When  the  powerful  field  glasses  arrived,  a 
watch  was  set  upon  the  outlaws  day  and  night. 
The  Texans  would  take  eight-hour  turns  and 
watch  everything.  They  knew  what  the  signals 
were,  and  they  knew  everything  that  the  robbers 
did,  for  they  were  three  of  the  most  skilled  men 
in  their  business. 

They  found  that  the  robbers  left  the  Den 
soon  after  daylight  and  went  direct  to  the  place 
where  they  intended  to  pull  the  next  job,  having 
slept  all  the  day  before  so  as  to  be  fresh  and  ready 
for  the  raid  that  night ;  then  secreting  themselves 
as  soon  as  possible  after  the  robbery  or  fleeing  in 
the  opposite  direction  from  the  Den  to  throw  off 
pursuers.  Maybe  they  would  ride  nights  and 
sleep  days  and  be  two  weeks  getting  back  to  head- 
—85— 


SILENT 

quarters.  Then  they  would  wait  upon  the  appoint- 
ed ridge  until  the  signals  flashed  "0.  K."  and  they 
were  allowed  to  enter  the  only  place  there  was  for 
rest  and  recreation  without  fear — that  bat  cave 
of  filth  and  darkness,  "Devils'  Den." 


"^6— 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  MAN  HUNTERS 

R.  and  Mrs.  Bear  were  attending  the 
divided  church  regularly,  praying  and 
reading  the  Bible,  and  trying  in  this 
way  to  overcome  the  feeling  of  revenge 
i:hat  was  surely  growing  upon  them.  Tom  was 
attending  Sunday  school,  as  all  the  young  folks 
♦lid,  and  seemed  to  be  happy  and  contented  with 
che  world,  despite  the  constant  reminders  of  the 
aggravating  deeds  of  the  Ash  family.  As  his  folks 
often  said:  "Give  him  the  company  of  that  horse 
Charley,  and  the  rest  of  the  world  can  quarrel  on." 
Tom  and  Charley  would  play  like  two  pup- 
pies, both  of  them  grown,  you  might  say,  and 
each  had  developed  into  a  giant  of  his  kind.  But 
still  they  played.  Tom  would  pinch  Charley  and 
run;  Charley  would  run  after  him,  walk  upon  his 
hind  legs,  so  as  to  be  able  to  catch  Tom,  and  nip 
him  in  return  for  the  pinch.  Tom  would  put  one 
hand  upon  the  fence  and  over  he  would  go  with 
Charley  right  after  him.  It  took  no  more  effort 
for  one  to  jump  the  fence  than  the  other.  On  they 
would  play  until  Mrs.  Bear  would  call  Tom  for 
bed.  Then  it  would  take  them  half  an  hour  to 
say  good  night  to  each  other.  Tom  would  go  to 
bed,  waving  good  night  to  the  two  bright  eyes 
that  would  be  watching  him.  After  Tom  had  been 
in  the  house  long  enough  to  be  in  bed  and  asleep, 
-57— 


SILENT 

the  horse  would  jump  the  fence,  go  to  Tom's  win- 
dow and  look  at  the  sleeping  boy,  until  he  was 
satisfied  that  all  was  well.  Then  he  would  jump 
quietly  back  into  the  lot  and  be  there  when  Tom 
got  up  to  feed  him  next  morning. 

Silent  was  watching  the  Texans  and,  smart  as 
they  were,  he  had  trailed  them  and  had  found  out 
just  exactly  what  they  were  doing  and  how  they 
were  doing  it.  Now  that  the  Texans  had  captured 
several  of  the  outlaws  and  received  the  rewards, 
they  were  a  little  bit  "chesty."  In  riding  back  and 
forth,  which  they  were  doing  continually,  they 
would  make  sarcastic  remarks,  aimed  at  the  Bear 
family,  as  they  passed  Aron's  house.  Most  of  their 
time  was  spent  in  the  Devil's  Den  country,  sup- 
posedly looking  after  Mr.  Ash's  cattle.  But  they 
had  never  seen  one  of  the  cattle,  and  they  never 
intended  to ;  all  they  wanted  of  Ash  was  a  place  to 
eat  and  sleep  and  plenty  of  horses  to  ride.  They 
changed  horses  every  time  they  went  to  the 
Devil's  Den  country.  Each  time  they  heard  of  a 
robbery,  they  would  wait  long  enough  for  the  rob- 
bers to  get  rested  in  that  den  of  filth,  then  they 
would  take  the  stand  selected,  and  watch  for  them 
to  go  out  on  another  raid.  When  the  outlaws 
would  leave,  the  Texans,  with  the  powerful  field 
glass,  would  get  a  close  up  look  at  them,  so  that 
they  would  be  able  to  recognize  each  outlaw  on 
sight.  They  would  also  get  familiar  with  the  in- 
dividual horses  of  the  outlaws,  and  would  study 
them  as  they  rode  along,  until  the  direction  was 
selected — north,  west  or  south.    As  soon  as  the 

-f-»88 — 


THE  MAN-HUNTERS 

outlaws  decided  upon  their  trail,  they  were  doom- 
ed, but  did  not  know  it.  The  Texans  would  fol- 
low on  that  trail  and  the  end  was  capture  or  death 
to  the  outlaw. 

Sometimes  the  unsuspecting  outlaws  would 
boldly  walk  into  a  small  town  where  they  were  not 
known,  and  stalk  around,  sizing  up  the  lay,  oc- 
casionally walking  into  a  dance  hall  or  a  gambling 
house  to  look  on  for  a  moment.  Then  two  of  the 
Texans  would  aimlessly  saunter  up  on  each  side, 
and,  at  a  signal,  grab  each  of  the  outlaw's  hands 
and  quietly  put  the  cuffs  on  him,  leaving  the  third 
Texan  to  guard  the  captive  while  they  took  the 
other  outlaw — the  outlaws  seldom  traveled  in 
groups  of  more  than  two. 

Sometimes  the  outlaws,  after  lying  in  the 
Devirs  Den  cave  for  a  long  period,  would  get 
sleepy  when  the  fresh  and  pure  air  of  the  outside 
filled  their  suffering  lungs.  Then  they  would  fall 
asleep  by  the  roadside,  and  in  cases  of  this  kind 
the  trailer  never  stopped ;  he  crept  noiselessly  upon 
the  victim,  for  the  "John  Doe"  warrants  read 
"dead  or  alive,"  and  in  such  cases  it  was  the  safest 
way,  and  the  reward  was  just  the  same.  All  there 
was  to  do  was  to  hunt  up  the  nearest  United  States 
marshal,  turn  the  body  over  to  him,  and  brag  to 
him  of  his,  the  outlaw's  bravery.  The  captor  would 
tell  of  how  the  outlaw  was  "fighting  two  of  us  to 
a  standstill";  but  when  he  saw  the  "third  one  of 
us  show,"  he  ran  and  we  "had  to  shoot  him  in  the 
back."  This  would  be  their  explanation  for  the 
place  in  which  the  man  had  been  shot.   The  reward 

—89— 


SILENT 

would  be  allowed,  and  the  Texans  would  be  on 
their  way,  ready  for  the  next  one.  Think  of  the 
odds  against  the  outlaw! 

On  the  way  back  from  one  of  these  visits 
to  the  marshal,  the  leading  Texan  said: 

"Now,  boys,  you  fellers  want  to  play  purty 
from  now  on,  for  I  am  gettin'  up  a  case  with  that 
gal,  and  I  don't  want  you  to  spile  it.  The  fact  is 
I  am  thinkin  right  now  of  settlin'  down  in  this 
country.  I  like  the  climate  an'  everything  else, 
especially  Miss  Ash ;  and  let  me  tell  you  she  likes 
me  a  little.  Every  time  we  come  back,  she  asks 
me  what  we  done  and  how  much  we  made;  and 
here  is  where  you  fellers  got  to  be  "peart."  I  tell 
her  we  get  five  thousand  apiece  for  them  fellers, 
and  of  course  I  tell  her  thar*s  no  danger  long's 
you're  not  afraid ;  and  I  tell  her  all  about  capturin' 
'em  without  a  shot  or  nothin'. 

The  small  Texan  spoke  up  and  said: 

"That's  fine  doin's,  tellin'  a  gal  all  about  what 
we're  a  doin*  an'  everything." 

"I  got  that  all  cinched  up,  old  pal ;  leave  it  to 
me,"  said  the  leader.  "I  told  her  that  the  reason 
I  was  tellin'  her  was  because  I  liked  her  so  much ; 
and  I  was  afeared  she  would  hear  somethin'  and 
talk;  that  to  talk  meant  somethin'  awful  would 
happen ;  that  if  this  boy,  or  any  of  the  Bear  family 
should  find  out,  they  would  go  right  straight  and 
tell  the  outlaws;  and  then  that  old  chief  Joaquin 
Murietta  would  lead  his  band  down  here  and  blow 
up  the  house  and  everybody  in  it.  I  made  her  be- 
lieve that  it  was  for  her  sake  I  was  tellin'  it— kill 
—90— 


THE  MAN-HUNTERS 

two  birds  with  one  stone,  see?  She  thinks  I  am 
goin*  to  be  the  richest  man  in  California,  'cause  I 
told  her  so;  and  she  believes  everything  I  say, 
just  like  her  mother. 

"I  wisht  I  could  pick  a  fight  with  that  half- 
witted thing  at  Bear's,  or  with  the  old  man  or  his 
son.  To  pick  one  of  them  off  would  sure  build  up 
our  reputation  right  now.  Say,  that  is  sure  a 
fine-lookin'  boy;  and  sure  goin'  to  make  a  fine 
raan,  if  he  lives.  I  love  to  see  that  gal  Betty  look 
at  him.  She  sure  don't  see  nothin'  nice  about  him, 
she  won't  even  talk  about  him.  She  just  looks  as 
though  she  was  lookin'  right  through  him,  and  in- 
to his  heart — maybe  seein'  what's  in  it." 

And  they  all  laughed. 

They  arrived  home,  or  at  Mr.  Ash's,  and  the 
first  chance  the  leader  got,  after  complimenting 
Mrs.  Ash  until  she  was  satisfied  to  leave  him  alone 
with  Betty,  he  told  the  girl  about  the  success  of 
the  trip.  No  bloodshed,  as  usual,  and  the  money 
had  been  sent  to  a  bank.  He  said  he  did  not 
know  what  he  was  going  to  do  with  so  much 
money  unless  she  would  let  him  spend  it  on  her. 
She  told  him  she  did  not  think  that  would  do  at 
all,  as  it  would  not  be  proper  for  a  single  girl  to 
accept  gifts  from  men. 

"No,"  he  said,  "I  don't  believe  so  myself,  but 
I  am  not  expectin'  you  to  be  single  the  rest  of 
yore  life." 

The  next  night  there  was  a  dance,  given  by 
the  friends  of  the  Ashes,  and    after    his    usual 
mushy  compliments  and  flattery,  the  man  asked 
—91— 


SILENT 

Mrs.  Ash  if  he  could  take  Betty.  Without  answer- 
ing him,  Mrs.  Ash  called  Betty  and  told  her  to  get 
ready  and  the  gentleman  would  take  her  to  the 
dance.  Betty  wanted  to  go  with  the  Texan  all 
right,  but  she  did  not  like  the  way  her  mother 
rushed  things.  Nevertheless,  in  a  short  time,  they 
were  off  on  horseback  to  the  dance.  Here  the 
Texan  began  to  spread  his  salve — the  best  brand 
he  had.  They  had  a  good  time  at  the  dance,  as 
none  of  the  Bears  were  invited  or  even  allowed  at 
the  dance. 

Coming  back,  the  Texan  took  Betty's  hand 
in  his,  squeezed  it  and  caressed  it,  and  talked 
about  beautiful  love  and  the  picture  before  his 
eyes ;  and  was  generally  very  interesting  to  her  in 
his  conversation.  When  Betty  got  home  she  was 
very  much  excited,  for  this  was  the  first  man  who 
had  ever  spoken  a  word  of  love  to  Betty  Ash.  And 
she  wondered  if  excitement  was  love,  and  so  on, 
until  her  mother  came  in.  Then  she  told  her 
mother  that  she  thought  she  would  not  go  to 
dances  any  more. 

"You  will  go  with  that  gentleman  whom  you 
went  with  tonight,  if  he  is  good  enough  to  ask 
you,"  said  her  mother.  "And  don't  think  you  are 
a-goin'  to  insult  our  gentlemen  friends,  jes'  be- 
cause you  think  you  are  grown  up  and  purty.  Why, 
there  wouldn't  be  none  of  us  alive  today  if  it 
wasn't  for  them  three  fellers." 

Betty  soon  found  out  that  her  own  idea  of 
"them  fellers"  did  not  count;  she  would  have  to 
do  as  she  was  told. 

—92— 


THE  MAN-HUNTERS 

Other  dances  came  and  the  Texan  took  her 
to  them.  He  would  also  take  her  to  Sunday  school 
sometimes,  but  not  often.  He  never  went  inside 
the  church,  but  just  stood  around  outside  and 
whittled.  Besides,  going  and  coming  was  no  good 
as  he  could  not  talk  well  in  daylight.  So  he  final- 
ly decided  to  be  out  on  the  man-hunt  on  Sundays. 
But  he  never  missed  a  dance  if  there  was  any  way 
for  him  to  be  there. 

He  began  to  get  very  bold  with  Betty;  he 
would  put  his  arm  around  her,  which  she  thought 
V7as  not  just  right,  for  she  had  known  him  less 
than  a  year.  But  what  was  there  for  her  to  do  ? 
There  was  no  one  in  all  the  world  to  appeal  to  and 
get  relief;  and  what  of  it,  anyway?  No  harm  in 
anything  unless  you  make  harm  of  it.  And  she 
dismissed  the  thought  as  if  it  were  all  right. 


-03— 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  PLEASANT  ASSOCIATION  OF  MINDS. 

HEN  the  Texans  went  on  the  next  trip, 
they  found  the  outlaws  were  getting 
scarce;  and  it  took  them  over  a  month 
to  land  two  and  get  the  reward  settled, 
'iney  came  back  home  a  little  bit  out  of  sorts.  But 
after  jollying  up  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ash,  the  leader  was 
himself  again,  and  was  telling  Betty  about  the 
successful  raid,  and  the  huge  amount  of  money 
they  had  received. 

Mrs.  Ash  had  been  telling  Dave  of  what  was 
going  on,  and  Dave  gave  the  leader  to  understand 
that,  if  he  wanted  Betty,  she  was  "his'n",  whether 
or  not.  And  in  turn,  her  father  told  Betty  that,  if 
she  could  make  herself  agreeable  enough  for  the 
leader  to  ask  her,  she  had  better  not  refuse  him 
if  she  still  wanted  to  live  at  home. 

Now  that  Betty  knew  where  she  stood,  she 
need  not  think  at  all.  The  thinking  had  all  been 
done  for  her. 

'Well,  they  can't  blame  me  if  he  turns  out 
bad,"  she  reflected.  "As  it  is,  I  have  nothing  at  all 
to  say." 

The  next  dance  night,  when  they  were  com- 
ing home,  the  Texan  stopped,  got  off  his  horse, 
walked  up  by  the  side  of  Betty's  horse,  held  out  his 
arms  and  said: 

"Come  on  down,  I  want  to  talk  to  you." 
—94— 


THE  PLEASANT  ASSOCIATION  OF  MINDS 

And  for  the  first  time  she  refused.  But  it 
W2LS  too  late  to  refuse  him  now,  for  he  knew  where 
he  stood  with  the  parents,  and  he  intended  to  use 
his  authority.  So  he  pulled  the  girl  right  off  the 
horse,  took  her  by  the  hands  and  said, 

"Look  here,  gal,  we're  a-goin'  to  get  married. 
Tve  been  lovin'  you  a  long  time ;  and  I  believe  you 
think  purty  well  of  me.  I  done  fixed  it  with  your 
folks.  So  late  next  spring  I'll  have  a  house  fin- 
ished, and  we'll  go  to  livin'  it  it." 

And,  as  if  everything  had  been  said  and  done, 
he  picked  her  up  in  his  arms,  facing  him,  his 
breath  smelling  of  strong  whisky  and  his  mus- 
tache covered  with  tobacco  juice,  he  kissed  her 
again  and  again,  right  on  the  mouth. 

When  he  had  helped  her  back  onto  her  horse, 
she  knew  more  than  she  did  before.  She  knew 
that  he  was  not  the  gentleman  her  folks  thought 
him;  she  knew  that  he  was  very  repulsive;  she 
was  sick  from  the  odor  of  his  breath  and  that  taste 
of  tobacco  from  his  mustache;  and  the  thought 
sickened  her.  How  would  she  stand  him  after 
they  were  married  ?  But  she  must  and  would,  and 
she  would  not  make  it  any  worse  by  thinking  of 
it.    She  would  wait  for  spring  and  pray  for  relief. 

The  next  expedition,  or  man-hunt,  the  Texans 
started,  lasted  almost  until  spring.  For  though 
they  watched  and  waited,  they  could  see  nothing, 
no  signals,  no  life  of  any  kind.  So  they  crawled 
up  close  to  the  cave  and  waited.  Still  there  was  no 
si[,Ti  of  life. 

After  they  had  waited  a  safe  time,  they  all 
—95— 


i 


SILENT 

went  up  to  the  cave ;  the  small  Texan  went  in  and 
started  a  fire  to  light  up  the  place.  Then  the 
others  went  in  and  they  explored  the  entire  cave. 
The  robbers  had  disappeared.  In  the  hurried  get- 
away of  the  remaining  outlaws,  they  had  left  lots 
of  clothes,  groceries  and  whiskey,  which  latter  the 
Texan  sampled  right  away  to  see  if  it  was  "pisen." 
But  it  was  pronounced  good,  as  all  whiskey  is. 

They  found  a  letter  just  outside  the  cave  en- 
trance, sealed,  stamped  and  ready  to  mail.  Evi- 
dently, it  had  been  accidentally  dropped  by  the 
writer.  From  this  letter  they  gained  the  informa- 
tion that  there  were  only  two  of  the  outlaws  left. 
One,  the  Mexican  leader,  was  writing  this  letter  to 
the  other,  whose  address  was  Santa  Barbara,  Cali- 
fornia. He  wrote  that  something  was  picking 
them  off  fast  and  sure.  The  writer  had  no  idea 
where  it  was  coming  from,  and  he  was  going  back 
to  his  family  in  Mexico.  He  finished  his  letter 
with  affection  and  the  usual,  "Adois,  amigo,  adois." 

Going  back  home  the  next  day  "lickered  up" 
when  they  landed,  they  saw  Silent  and  Tom  stand- 
ing up  the  road  from  the  house.    The  leader  said : 

"WeVe  got  to  start  something  now!  Give 
'em  a  scare!" 

So  they  agreed  to  give  Tom  and  Silent  a 
little  touch  of  Indian  fighting.  Accordingly,  when 
they  got  near,  the  leader  yelled  like  a  Comanche 
to  direct  the  attention  of  the  Ashes,  started  his 
horse  on  a  dead  run,  flung  himself  away  over  on  his 
horse's  side,  and  began  to  fire  his  six-shooter  un- 
der his  horse's  neck  and  across  the  ground  in  front 

—96—= 


THE  PLEASANT  ASSOCIATION  OF   MINDS 

of  Tom  and  Silent.  Each  of  the  other  Texans  fol- 
lowed suit,  and  they  tore  up  long  streaks  of  dust 
right  close  to  the  astonished  Tom  and  Silent. 

On  they  rode,  shouting  and  shooting,  the  bul- 
lets plowing  up  long  furrows  of  dust,  until  they 
had  passed  the  Bears*  house,  when  they  all 
straightened  up  on  their  horses  and  rode  up  to 
Ash's  residence,  all  laughing  and  talking.  They 
told  the  Ashes  that  it  was  a  shame  to  scare  two 
greenhorns  like  that,  but  they  just  couldn't  help 
s  t.  Dave  Ash  was  elated ;  in  fact,  it  was  the  first 
thing  that  had  happened  to  make  him  feel  that  he 
could  see  the  end  of  the  Bear  family. 

Mrs.  Ash  and  Betty  were  out  to  meet  the  Tex- 
ans, as  they  had  been  gone  for  a  long  time;  and 
Betty  had  apparently  forgotten  the  last  trip  from 
the  dance. 

That  night,  around  the  fireplace,  the  Texans 
told  everybody  about  their  successful  undertak- 
ings; how  they  had  broken  up  and  captured  all 
])ut  two  of  the  worst  band  of  outlaws  that  ever 
was.  But  they  did  not  want  anybody  to  mention 
it,  as  there  might  be  something  more  to  do.  They 
told  about  the  big  rewards  they  had  got  and  how 
easily  they  had  captured  their  men.  But  they  did 
not  tell  just  how  they  had  captured  some  of  the 
worst  ones — asleep.  Nor  did  they  tell  that  the 
wise  old  marshal  in  Texas  was  getting  half  of  the 
rewards  for  his  help,  and  for  what  he  had  "on'' 
this  trio;  nor  that  after  that  they  had  to  "cut" 
^vith  the  local  marshal  for  his  identification  and 
*  0.  K's."  on  the  captures. 
—97— 


SILENT 

So  with  the  outlaws  all  gone  and  most  of  the 
reward  money  spent,  the  Texans  had  only  one 
chance  to  remain  at  the  Ashes,  and  that  was  to 
stir  up  the  factions,  and  in  that  way  keep  their 
homes.  With  the  liquor  taken  from  the  Devil's 
Den  aboard,  they  would  be  a  tough,  troublesome 
mess  to  handle. 

Poor  Tom !  That  was  the  first  time  any  man 
or  set  of  men  had  ever  insulted  him.  He  wasn't 
angry,  but  he  was  hurt;  and  as  he  and  Silent 
walked  back  home,  he  said: 

"I  am  awfully  sorry  for  those  men.  I  wondar 
why  they  did  it  r 

Silent  answered  this  time,  that  they  were 
either  drinking  or  they  intended  to  leave  this 
world  soon. 

Tom  did  not  quite  understand,  but  he  knew  it 
was  useless  to  ask  any  more  questions,  as  Silent 
had  already  gone  over  his  quota  of  talk. 

Tom  met  his  father  coming.  Mr.  Bear  asked 
all  about  the  trouble,  and  when  Tom  told  him,  he 
was  so  angry  he  was  almost  insane;  and  he  told 
his  boy  right  there  to  shoot,  and  shoot  to  kill, 
the  next  time.  Tom  explained  to  his  father  that 
he  had  never  thought  of  killing  any  one;  but  his 
father  told  him  that  he  was  to  kill,  and  that  the 
time  was  getting  near  when  such  as  that  would 
be  done.  He  took  poor  Tom  to  task  for  being 
afraid,  and  said  that  cowardice  did  not  belong  to 
the  inheritance  of  a  Bear. 

Tom  told  his  father  that  he  feared  no  livin^r 
man  or  beast  and  never  had. 
—98— 


THE  PLEASANT  ASSOCIATION  OF  MINDS 

"Any  time  you  give  me  the  command  to 
shoot,  Father,  I  will  shoot,  and  shoot  to  kill." 

Then  the  elder  Bear  turned  to  Silent  and 
asked : 

"What  have  you  got  to  say  about  it?" 

"I  will  say  that  the  boy  has  given  my  answer 
in  full,"  replied  Silent. 

Aron  Bear  entered  the  house,  still  storming. 
Silent  went  to  the  kitchen  to  help  Mrs.  Bear.  Tom 
went  on  to  the  back  lot,  walked  up  to  the  side  of 
C'harley  and  began  to  study.  But  Charley  would 
rot  have  that;  he  just  nosed  Tom  around  and 
nipped  him  with  his  lips  until  Tom  had  to  play. 
So  after  a  very  short  play,  Tom  forgot  all  his 
troubles  and  was  himself  again.  Tom  and  Charley 
had  decided  mutually  that  the  puppy  days  were 
ever;  that  they  were  both  big,  strong,  full-growns 
now ;  and  that  something  more  serious  was  taking 
the  place  of  play.  The  conditions  of  existence  as 
it  was  began  to  take  a  serious  hold  on  both  their 
minds,  and  they  were  full  partners  in  everything. 
When  anything  was  wrong,  Tom  would  go  to 
Charley,  and  the  happy  moments  passed  together 
would  clear  the  boy's  mind.  The  pleasant  assoc- 
iation of  minds  is  wonderful  whether  it  be  man, 
woman  or  beast. 

Several  weeks  passed  without  one  movement 
from  the  Texans.  They  stuck  right  at  the  Ash 
home  and  Mr.  Bear  was  worried  almost  sick  on 
account  of  it,  when  Silent  finally  told  him  the 
lexans*  business;  and  now  that  he  supposed  the 
^99— 


SILENT 

outlaws  were  all  gone,  there  was  nothing  for  those 
fellows  to  do  but  be  mean. 

"But  why  did  you  not  tell  me  before,"  Mr. 
Bear  asked. 

Silent  answered: 

"It  would  have  done  no  good  to  tell.  Be- 
sides, I  have  been  talking  too  much  lately.  Three- 
fourths  of  the  things  I  say  I  wish  I  hadn't  said 
five  minutes  after.  I  am  telling  you  now  so  that 
you  can  look  out  for  yourself,"  he  added. 

Mr.  Bear  told  his  wife  everything,  and  said 
that  he  could  not  understand  why  Tom  let  "them 
fellers"  get  away  so  easy  with  that  big  bluff.  Mrs. 
Bear  said  she  wondered  why  the  men  laid  over  on 
the  opposite  side  of  their  horses  and  shot  under 
the  horses'  necks. 

"If  they  were  so  brave,"  she  said,  "why  didn't 
they  sit  up  straight  on  the  horses  where  Tom 
could  see  them  ?  And,  as  to  Tom  being  afraid,  he 
is  not,  Aron  Bear!  He  has  more  real  nerve  than 
you  have.  For  when  you  came  in  that  night,  he 
said,  "Hello,  Mamma !"  as  he  always  does  and  held 
up  my  hand  with  his  fingers  as  if  to  admire  me, 
as  is  his  custom.  And,  Aron,  there  was  no  sign  of 
a  quiver  in  his  voice!  His  fingers  were  steady, 
not  one  muscle  excited.  And  then  he  went  on 
through  to  play  with  Charley,  who  loves  Tom 
better  than  he  loves  his  own  life.  And  Tom  is  so 
generous  and  kind.  Just  lately  he  has  found  some 
destitute  family  or  some  poor  miner  whom  he 
takes  groceries  to." 

"Well,  I  am  so  glad  you  told  me  all  this,  Su- 
—100— 


THE  PLEASANT  ASSOCIATION  OF  MINDS 

san.  It  surely  makes  me  feel  better.  And  I  am 
glad  to  know  that  Tom  is  generous  and  is  helping 
the  poor.  We  will  just  let  him  go  on  with  his 
charity  work  all  by  himself.  It  is  so  good  to 
know  that  he  is  that  kind.  Do  you  ever  give  him 
any  money,  mother?" 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Bear,  "I  do.  But  he  doesn't 
spend  it,  so  I  have  about  quit;  but  I  will  start  in 
again  this  very  day." 


—101— 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  HARVEST  OF  HATRED. 

OME  miners  had  been  scratching 
around  the  mountains  looking  for  gold, 
when  they  discovered  a  large  quantity 
of  coal.  Everybody  was  excited  about 
it  as  tney  all  said  that  it  meant  a  railroad.  So, 
in  order  to  get  a  lot  of  advertising  out  of  the 
strike,  the  residents  decided  to  change  the  name 
of  the  post  office  to  COAL-INGA.  They  had  sent 
a  petition  to  Washington  and  were  waiting  for  the 
answer,  when  along  came  a  big,  fat  letter  from  the 
government  to  the  postmaster.  Now  the  post- 
master liked  very  much  to  show  these  letters  from 
Washington,  so  he  called  in  the  crowd  and  said: 
"Here  she  is,  boys!  Let's  open  her  up." 
They  all  stepped  up  close,  and  the  postmaster 
opened  the  letter.  There  was  nothing  in  it  about 
changing  the  name  of  the  post  office,  but  there 
was  a  notice  to  be  posted  in  a  conspicuous  place, 
and  the  notice  read: 


CANCELLATION  OF  REWARD. 

All  rewards  previously  offered  for  the 
capture  of  the  notorious  outlaws  in  the 
Devils'  Den  country  are  permaneucly 
withdrawn. 

—102— 


THE  HARVEST  OF  HATRED 

Then  there  was  a  letter  stating  the  facts  and 
that  the  government  felt  deeply  indebted  to  the 
three  deputy  marshals  who  were  sent  from  Texas, 
giving  their  names.  The  postmaster  knew  who 
they  were,  as  they  had  gotten  the  field  glasses 
under  their  own  names  when  they  first  came.  So 
he  tacked  up  the  notice  and  spread  the  news 
broadcast. 

Dave  Ash  got  the  credit  for  working  out  the 
scheme,  and  that  naturally  went  to  Dave's  head. 
I^e  declared  that,  as  soon  as  he  got  rid  of  the  Bear 
•  ;  .  :  i^  r  ice  would  be  safe  to  live  in  "once't 
more. '  He  stayed  around  the  post  office  nearly 
all  the  time  to  .sfst  all  the  praise  he  could.  The 
sentiment  turned  in  his  favor;  he  was  better 
thought  of  then  Aron  was,  and  he  knew  it.  Mr. 
Bear  was  losing  ground;  his  friends  were  not  so 
plentiful  and  had  lots  less  to  say  than  Dave's  did. 

Notice  came  of  the  change  in  the  name  of 
the  post  office,  and  Dave  said  he  believed  he  was 
the  first  man  to  suggest  calling  the  town  COAL- 
INGA,  and  as  he  had  all  the  other  glories,  he  an- 
nexed that  one  too. 

So  the  town  was  named  COALINGA,  and 
"Dave  Ash  done  it." 

The  preacher  had  repeatedly  refused  to  take 
sides,  but  now  that  Dave  was  getting  so  popular, 
his  friends  went  to  the  preacher  in  a  body  and 
told  him,  in  a  way  that  sounded  more  like  a  de- 
mand than  a  request,  that  it  was  his  duty  to  take 
sides  after  a  man  had  proven  himself  to  be  what 
Dave  Ash  was.    The  preacher  said : 

—103— 


SILENT 

"Gentlemen,  I  am  sorry  to  have  you  bring 
this  matter  up  again.  It  is  very  unpleasant  and 
provokes  more  feeling  among  yourselves.  Right 
now  I  am  taking  sides  against  memories  of  the 
same  kind  of  thing  in  my  own  life.  And,  gentle- 
men, please  be  calm,  is  all  that  I  have  to  say." 

Aron  Bear,  after  hearing  of  the  stand  that 
the  preacher  had  taken,  was  more  than  anxious 
to  attend  church  the  next  Sunday.  And,  as  Tom 
went  to  Sunday  school  and  church  too  every  Sun- 
day, they  all  went  together,  Tom  riding  Charley, 
Susan  and  Aron  riding  in  the  big  wagon  with  a 
quilt  thrown  over  the  spring  seat.  Susan  wore  a 
starched  sunbonnet  and  was  sparkling  all  over 
with  cleanliness.  Aron  had  his  best  on,  but  that 
was  the  same  that  he  wore  every  day. 

Dave  Ash  was  there  on  the  post  office  steps 
as  usual.  He  never  went  inside  the  church,  as  he 
did  not  want  a  preacher  to  do  all  the  talking — he 
wanted  to  do  a  "majority"  of  it  himself.  After 
the  sermon,which  was  from  the  topic  "Lead  Kind- 
ly Light,"  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bear  started  out  to  the 
wagon.  As  they  were  passing  near  the  post  office 
steps,  Dave  remarked  to  his  friends,  who  were 
around  him : 

"I  wonder  if  he  is  a  cinnamon  bear  or  a  grizz- 
ly bear  or  just  a  common,  dirty  old  black  bear." 

And  they  all  laughed,  Dave  laughing  the 
loudest  of  all  as  he  thought  that  was  sure  a  good 
one.  Aron  hesitated,  then  walked  on  to  the 
wagon,  put  Susan  onto  the  spring  seat  and  called 
Tom,  telling  him  to  drive  the  wagon  back  home, 

—104— 


THE  HARVEST  OF  HATRED 

as  he  would  ride  Charley.  Then  he  walked  back 
to  the  post  office  steps,  stopped  in  front  of  Dave 
and  said: 

"Dave  Ash,  you  are  a  low  down,  cowardly 
^jkunk  to  make  a  remark  like  that  before  my  wife ; 
and  if  you  will  stand  on  your  feet,  I  will  wipe 
the  earth  with  you/' 

Dave  sat  still  a  moment,  and  his  friends  look- 
ed to  him  for  a  reply;  he  had  to  say  something, 
so  he  said: 

"Yes,  when  that  big  boy  of  your'n  is  along, 
you  are  mighty  brave.  Wait  till  I  catch  you  alone." 
"It  is  not  my  boy  you  are  afraid  of,  you  low 
down  skunk;  it  is  this." 

And  Aron  rolled  up  his  sleeves  and  placed 
his  big,  bony  fist  right  under  Dave's  nose.  As 
Dave  refused  to  answer  the  challenge,  Aron  got 
on  Charley  and  followed  the  wagon  home. 

The  friends  of  Dave  Ash  who  were  there  be- 
gan to  "get  sour"  right  away,  and  they  told  him 
50.  They  said  that,  while  Aron  Bear  was  a  bad 
man,  he  was  brave,  and  it  was  generally  the 
eoward  who  was  in  the  wrong.  They  all  told  their 
lolks  when  they  went  home;  but  they  said  that 
it  was  to  go  no  farther,  as  they  had  been  up- 
holding Dave  Ash  so  long  they  were  afraid  now  to 
own  up  that  he  was  not  the  man  they  thought. 
This  was  a  bad  policy;  but  necessary  ignorance 
kept  them  from  knowing  right,  and  the  happen- 
ings of  that  day  were  buried. 

When  Aron  got  home  he  told  his  folks  that 
Dave  was  a  sneaking  coward;  and  now  that  the 
—105— 


SILENT 

Texans  were  here  without  any  business,  it  must 
be  that  Dave  had  hired  them  to  do  his  fighting. 
If  that  were  the  case  they  might  expect  trouble 
from  now  on.  He  was  right,  for  as  soon  as  Dave 
got  home,  he  told  the  Texans  that  he  had  heard 
the  Bears  had  made  their  brags  that  they  were 
going  to  make  the  Texans  take  water.  Then  the 
latter  began  their  spitefulness.  They  did  not  want 
to  start  any  real  fighting ;  for  if  they  did,  it  would 
end  that  good  home  with  the  Ash  family.  The 
leader  was  building  the  house  for  Betty  and  him- 
self ;  spring  had  come  and  the  house  was  not  done 
yet.  Nevertheless,  they  must  keep  the  trouble 
brewing  some  way.  The  Texans  had  never  heard 
of  the  incident  after  church  and  they  v/ere  afraid 
the  quarrel  might  die  out  of  its  own  accord,  as 
they  knew  that  none  of  these  quarrels  had  any 
foundation.  So  they  would  slur  Aron's  friends 
and  make  dirty  remarks  when  they  passed  and 
saw  anyone  out  in  front  of  Aron*s  house. 

Everything  went  on  as  usual  until  one  Sun- 
day when  Tom  went  to  Sunday  school,  but  was 
instructed  not  to  stay  for  church.  There  was  a 
lapse  of  a  couple  of  hours  between  Sunday  school 
and  church,  in  order  to  give  everyone  a  chance  to 
get  lunch.  This  made  church  rather  late  in  the 
afternoon.  It  was  getting  risky  to  be  out  at  night, 
for  the  Texans  were  making  life  miserable  for  the 
Bears. 

Aron  and  Silent  were  rounding  up  the  cattle 
that  Sunday,  and  they  had  also  been  requested  by 
Mrs.  Bear  to  get  in  early  for  fear  something  might 
—105— 


THE  HARVEST  OF  HATRED 

happen  to  them.  It  was  getting  late  and  Mrs. 
Bear  was  out  in  front  of  the  house,  watching  for 
Tom  to  return  from  Sunday  school.  She  saw  him 
coming,  but  instead  of  being  the  respectable  dis- 
tance behind  Betty,  as  agreed  upon  long  ago,  he 
was  that  far  ahead  of  her. 

As  Mrs.  Bear  stood  waiting  for  Tom  to  come, 
the  Texans,  always  riding  around  together,  rode 
by  her.  One  of  them  asked  her  if  she  intended  to 
have  some  cubs  out  in  the  road.  And  they  all 
laughed  and  "ha-ha-ed,"  good  and  long. 

She  ran  for  home,  fearing  that  they  would 
say  more.  Tom  saw  her  run ;  he  raised  his  reins 
and  Charley  made  a  few  long  jumps,  and  they 
were  home.  When  Tom  found  his  mother  she  was 
crying.  Charley  had  gotten  there  so  quickly  that 
Tom  surprised  her.  She  tried  to  make  excuses, 
but  they  were  no  good  with  Tom.  He  knew  that 
something  had  happened,  and  if  she  did  not  tell 
h  im,  he  said,  he  would  think  it  worse  than  it  real- 
ly was. 

So  she  told  him  exactly  what  the  Texans  had 
said  and  they  both  cried,  one  with  shame  and  the 
other  with  pity.  When  Aron  arrived  they  were 
Loth  trying  to  wipe  away  the  tears,  and  when  he 
beard  the  awful  news,  and  looked  at  mother  and 
£on  in  tears,  a  raving  madman  would  have  been 
frightened  just  to  see  Aron  Bear  cursing,  stamp- 
iag  and  damning  the  world  by  quarter  sections, 
with  every  bit  of  mind  and  reason  gone,  and  Susan 
clinging  onto  him  for  dear  life.  He  would  storm 
{ind  charge,  flinging  poor  Susan  to  the  floor,  only 
—107— 


SILENT 

for  her  to  rise  and  cling  tighter  than  ever,  beg- 
ging him  to  be  reasonable. 

He  got  Tom  and  Silent  together  and  said: 

"Every  man  to  his  guns!  We  will  go  over 
there  and  kill  the  entire  tribe!" 

Mrs.  Bear  pleaded  for  him  to  wait  until  morn- 
ing, when  he  would  be  more  himself  and  able  to 
compete  with  the  wily  Texans,  who  would  be  cool 
and  collected.  But,  no,  he  would  not  wait!  The 
time  had  come,  and  he  would  rather  go,  and  take 
his  own  with  him  into  another  world,  than  to 
have  them  stay  in  this  miserable  condition. 

"No!  Come  on!  We  will  walk  right  out  of 
the  door,  firing  broadsides  right  into  their  house," 
he  declared. 

"Oh,  no,  Father,"  said  Tom,  "the  women." 

"Women,  hell!"  said  his  father.  "Don't  you 
ever  call  them  women  again !  Come !  and  show  no 
quarter !" 

Silent  sat  unmoved  through  it  all,  but  when 
Aron  said,  "Come  on,"  he  shook  his  head  and  said 
he  believed  that  Mrs.  Bear  was  right. 

"As  it  is,"  he  said,  "there  are  four  to  three 
that  we  know  of,  and  maybe,  as  you  say,  the  wo- 
men are  gunmen,  or  will  help.  It  is  going  to  take 
all  the  cool  judgment  we  have  to  turn  the  trick. 
You  are  excited,  and  I  am  liable  to  get  to  shoot- 
ing fast.  You  might  run  right  in  front  of  my  gnus 
and  make  us  lose  the  battle.  If  you  will  wait  un- 
til morning,  I  will  try  to  be  right  in  the  middle  of 
the  Ash  house  when  the  last  shot  is  fired." 
Keeping  Aron  quiet  long  enough  for  Silent 
—108— 


THE  HARVEST  OF  HATRED 

to  tell  his  story  in  his  slow  and  quiet  way,  had  a 
v/onderf ul  effect  on  the  excited  madman.  He  had 
cooled  off  sufficiently  to  listen  to  reason;  but  at 
times  he  would  still  rave  for  a  short  while.  Mrs. 
Bear  still  clung  to  his  clothing  and  prayed  for  him. 
She  promised  him  before  God,  that,  if  he  lost  the 
battle  the  next  morning,  she  would  go  with  them 
to  another  world,  and  not  stay  and  suffer  indig- 
nities alone.  And  the  family  knelt  in  prayer  such 
as  is  consoling  to  the  participants  in  a  desperate 
battle  to  be  waged  at  daybreak,  the  time  when 
Silent  had  suggested  for  starting  the  activities. 

It  was  supper  time  now  and  time  to  feed  the 
I  orses.  Tom  had  just  gone  out  to  the  back  lot 
where  Charley  stood,  saddled  as  he  had  come  from 
Sunday  school.  Tom  threw  ten  ears  of  corn  in  the 
trough  in  front  of  Charley,  and  quietly  slipped 
his  rifle  into  the  scabbard  that  stayed  fastened  to 
the  saddle  at  all  times.  Then  he  picked  up 
Charley's  foot  and  looked  at  the  new  steel  shoes 
that  had  been  put  on  recently. 

As  he  gently  lowered  the  horse's  foot,  Tom 
was  wistfully  looking  toward  the  house.  Charley 
liad  taken  several  bites  of  corn,  when  he  noticed 
that  there  was  no  smoke  coming  out  of  the  kitch- 
en stovepipe,  and  no  smell  of  cooking,  which  he 
had  smelled  every  night  of  his  life.  There  was 
s  omething  different  and  he  noticed  it,  and  he  was 
jiever  satisfied  unless  he  could  understand  and 
help  in  some  way.  With  his  nose  he  rooted  the 
f»ars  of  corn  from  one  end  of  the  trough  to  the 
other  and  took  a  deep  bite  out  of  one,  biting  the 
—109— 


SILENT 

cob  half  in  two.  Then  he  looked  around  at  Tom, 
pushed  the  boy's  hat  back  with  his  nose,  and 
looked  right  in  Tom's  face.  He  could  understand 
now  that  something  was  wrong.  That  was  enough 
for  him.  He  did  not  want  to  eat.  The  corn  in  his 
mouth  tasted  like  cockle  burrs  and  he  spat  it  ah 
out,  blew  his  nose  and  looke  i  again.  He  had  never 
seen  Tom  look  that  way  before,  and  his  true  and 
loyal  mind  told  him  that  whoever  had  mistreated 
Tom  must  pay.  His  head  went  up  and  his  ears 
back ;  he  stamped  and  stepped  around,  and  switch- 
ed his  tail  as  much  as  to  say: 

"I  am  ready,  and  I  have  the  power  and  the 
will  to  avenge  the  wrong." 

Poor  Charley !  He  did  not  know,  but  he  con- 
tinually reminded  Tom  that  he  was  ready  and 
willing  for  the  command  to  surrender  the  horse 
life  that  his  mother  had  given  him,  if  necessary. 
Tom  cinched  up  the  saddle  very  tightly,  and  when 
Charley  knew  that  there  was  something  lor  him 
to  do. 

The  sun  had  just  gone  down,  and  Aron  was 
helping  Susan  get  supper.  Silent  had  taken  his 
pan  of  potatoes  outside  to  peel.  Across  the  road 
Betty  Ash  was  sweeping  the  front  yard.  When 
Tom  put  on  the  bridle,  Charley's  muscles  began 
to  form  and  stand  out  like  stranded  and  plaited 
cables  of  steel;  and  he  stood  erect  and  motion- 
less. Tom  mounted  and  sat  there  just  as  motion- 
less and  waited,  looking  toward  his  home  and 
mother.  Charley  looked  at  Tom's  feet  to  see  if 
they  were  in  the  stirrups  properly,  and  as  they 
—HO— 


THE  HARVEST  OF  HATRED 

were,  he  stood  at  attention,  ready  for  the  com- 
mand. Whatever  it  was  it  made  no  difference  to 
him,  he  was  going  to  obey  it. 

Tom  took  one  last  and  affectionate  look  to- 
ward home,  then  leaned  over  and  held  out  the 
reins.  Charley  started  slowly  and  right  toward 
the  Ash  house,  a  direction  he  had  never  been  al- 
lowed to  go  before.  When  he  had  crossed  the 
road  between  the  two  houses,  he  was  told  to  "go," 
and  he  went !  Like  a  flash  from  a  rocket  he  went 
over  the  fence  and  right  up  to  the  front  of  the 
Ash  house;  and  like  the  quick  and  sure  strike  of 
the  adder,  a  left  arm  reached  out,  seized  Betty 
Ash  around  the  waist,  and  landed  her  squarely  on 
Charley's  back  as  he  cleared  the  fence  by  a  safe 
margin.  Then  on  to  the  flat  and  toward  the  moun- 
tains he  went  like  a  streak! 

The  Texans  ran  for  their  horses,  which  were 
always  ready  and  behind  the  house.  As  Tom  went 
over  the  fence  with  Betty,  the  Texans  came  around 
the  house.  They  had  to  go  down  to  the  gate  to 
get  out  of  the  yard,  and  they  lost  some  valuable 
time.  On  the  other  hand,  Tom  had  to  make  a  long 
circle  to  keep  from  facing  the  wind  on  the  flat,  as 
he  saw  that  Betty  was  about  to  lose  her  breath, 
the  horse  was  going  so  fast.  The  Texans,  taking 
advantage  of  the  circle,  began  to  gain  on  Tom 
as  they  all  disappeared  in  the  distance. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bear  did  not  know  just  what  had 

happened  until  they  saw  Tom  going,  with  Betty 

behind  him.    And  that  was  all  Mr.  Bear  wanted 

to  know.    Mrs.  Bear  called,  "Where  is  Silent?" 

—Ill— 


SILENT 

His  pan  of  potatoes  was  sitting  there,  half  peeled, 
but  he  was  gone.    Mrs.  Bear  called; 

"Silent!" 

And  from  the  top  of  the  house  came  the  an- 
swer, "Yes,  Mrs.  Bear." 

"What  on  earth  are  you  doing  up  there?  Is 
everybody  going  crazy  at  one  time?" 

Silent  told  her  that  he  had  seen  the  whole 
thing,  and  as  the  distance  had  hidden  the  view  of 
the  race,  he  had  crawled  to  the  top  of  the  house 
to  get  a  last  look  at  Tom. 

"Tell  me,  please,"  said  Mrs.  Bear,  "tell  me  all 
about  it.    What  did  you  see?" 

"Well,  the  first  thing  I  saw  was  the  horse 
walking  toward  the  road  between  the  houses,  and 
just  as  he  crossed  the  road,  he  began  to  leap  stiff- 
legged,  like  an  antelope,  till  he  came  to  the  fence. 
He  was  watching  Tom  all  the  time  to  get  his 
meaning;  and  he  leaped  that  fence  so  easy-like, 
and  darted  right  at  Miss  Betty.  But  when  he 
jumped  that  fence  going  out,  he  didn't  jump  easy! 
I  never  saw  such  a  jump  before!  He  hit  the 
ground  twenty  feet  on  the  other  side  of  that  fence, 
and  hit  it  running!" 

Charley  knew  that  the  other  horses  were 
gaining  on  him,  and  he  wondered  why  Tom  would 
not  let  him  go  faster;  but  the  unsteady  balance 
of  the  girl  behind  convinced  him  that  it  was  on 
her  account  that  he  was  being  held  back.  So  he 
contented  himself  with  the  thought  that,  when 
they  struck  the  steep  side  of  that  rocky  mounain, 
he  would  leave  those  three  white  horses  behind; 
-—112— 


THE  HARVEST  OF  HATRED 

for  he  knew  that  he  was  keeping  his  locomotive 
pov/ers  up  to  a  high  standard  of  perfection,  and 
could  go  twice  as  fast  if  called  upon  by  Tom. 

And  the  three  white  horses  were  coming  like 
the  wind.  Their  bodies  were  getting  closer  to  the 
ground  all  the  time,  showing  Tom  that  they  were 
running  faster.  He  could  see  the  Texans  man- 
euvering, under  orders  from  the  leader,  who  was 
forming  them  into  a  V-shape,  as  wild  geese  fly. 
Tom  knew  that  they  were  about  to  begin  their  at- 
tack in  some  unknown  manner. 

The  leader  began  to  loosen  his  rifle  in  the 
scabbard  and  pull  his  six-shooter  around  in  front, 
tie  other  two  following  suit.  Tom  saw  that  some 
desperate  attack  was  about  to  take  place.  Was  it 
possible  that  they  were  going  to  try  to  shoot  him 
off  that  horse,  and  Betty  so  close  to  him?  He 
knew  they  were  all  good  shots,  but  he  did  not 
think  they  could  shoot  that  well ;  and  he  knew  pos- 
itively that  they  did  not  intend  to  harm  the  girl. 
Instantly  the  thought  struck  Tom,  burning  his 
bead  like  Are.  A  cold  sweat  broke  out  all  over  him 
Ls  he  realized  that  they  were  going  to  kill  his 
horse.  Murder  poor  Charley,  the  lowest  down  thing 
a  man  could  do — shoot  a  horse  to  get  a  man ! 

His  head  cooled  off,  the  cold  sweat  dried  and 
I'om  came  to  himself  completely.  Recollections  of 
the  past,  of  the  grizzly  hunt,  and  also  the  tradi- 
tion of  ages  which  is  self -protection,  brought  him 
back  to  his  daring  ,accuracy  and  alertness.  Like 
a  flash  and  with  panther-like  suppleness,  he  threw 
himself  on  his  back  and  on  the  left  side  of  his 
—113— 


SILENT 

horse.  With  his  right  hand  he  brought  his  rifle 
from  the  scabbard,  and  with  his  left  he  pulled 
Betty  down  into  his  lap.  All  this  was  done  with 
no  lapse  of  time. 

Tom,  steadying  himself,  touched  the  trigger. 
A  long,  slender  bolt  of  fire  left  that  gun  with  the 
report,  and  also  a  hissing,  shrieking  message  of 
death.  Did  the  message  find  its  mark?  There 
was  no  doubt  in  the  minds  of  Tom  and  Charley, 
for  Tom  never  missed.  Tom  was  sure,  for  he 
could  see.  He  touched  the  trigger  the  second 
time,  and  again  the  shriek  and  the  flash  like 
lightening  left  the  gun,  the  report  just  as  distinct 
as  before,  showing  that  it  came  from  a  small  and 
very  high-powered  rifle.  Should  he  fire  the  third 
shot  ?He  must !  He  had  no  time  to  think,  and  again 
the  third  hissing  message  was  on  its  way.  This 
time  the  shreiking  sound  followed  very  distinctly 
until  the  message  was  delivered.  All  these  whistl- 
ing sounds  were  new  to  Charley.  He  did  not  know 
that  Tom  could  make  home-made  mushroom  bul- 
lets. 

But  the  clatter  of  Charley's  feet  never 
varied.  He  leaped  just  the  same  distance  each 
time,  and  struck  each  foot  with  the  same  sure 
tread.  Each  leap  into  the  darkness,  for  it  was 
getting  dark  now,  was  just  equal  to  the  leap  be- 
fore and  to  the  one  after,  making  one  think  that  he 
was  being  propelled  by  perpetual  motion,  or  by 
some  mechanical  device  invented  to  mark  time 
accurately. 

And  with  all  this  precision  of  accuracy,  he 
—114— 


THE  HARVEST  OF  HATRED 

^v3ls  running  with  his  right  front  and  hind  legs 
doubled  in  under  him,  to  throw  himself  over  side- 
^vise,  and  balance  the  uneven  load  on  his  back. 
On  he  hastened  into  the  night,  with  the  clock-like 
clatter  of  his  hoofs  dying  away  in  the  distance. 

No  one  said  a  word.  Tom  put  his  gun  back 
into  the  scabbard  and  straightened  Betty  up  in 
the  saddle,  as  he  had  had  no  time  to  change  her 
position  before.  Then  slipping  behind  the  saddle 
Jiimself,  he  put  his  arms  around  her.  But  when 
he  kissed  her  lips,  she  was  cold;  he  discovered 
lihat  she  was  cold  all  over  and  that  her  eyes  were 
shut.    He  called  for  Charley  to  stop. 

Poor  little  Betty!  The  strain  of  that  awful 
ride,  lying  on  her  back  while  the  shooting  was  go- 
ing on,  and  for  all  that  she  knew,  one  of  those 
hissing  messengers  might  have  been  aimed  at  her 
father !  So  many  things  had  happened  in  a  short 
space  of  time  that  poor  Betty  gave  up. 

After  taking  her  off  the  horse,  Tom  built  a 
fire  and  put  Betty  in  front  of  it;  he  frantically 
rubbed  and  patted  her,  blew  his  warm  breath  on 
her  cold  cheeks,  worked  over  her  and  tried  to  talk 
to  her ;  but  there  was  no  use.  Betty  was  dead — to 
all  things  except  two.  She  could  feel  and  she 
could  cling  to  whatever  she  felt. 

Tom  thought  that  by  the  right  kind  of  nurs- 
ing, she  would  come  to  all  right;  but  he  knew 
that  such  nursing  as  he  could  do  must  be  done 
on  the  horse's  back  and  the  horse  going,  as  he  had 
spent  thirty  minutes  already  and  there  was  no 
more  time  to  lose.  He  knew  there  would  be  a  new 
—115— 


SILENT 

posse  formed  as  soon  as  the  fate  of  the  three  Tex- 
ans  was  discovered.  So  he  took  off  his  coat  and 
outer  shirt  and  put  them  on  Betty.  Then  he  took 
off  his  shoes  and  socks,  slipped  them  on  over  her 
little  thin  shoes  and  stockings,  tied  them  on  se- 
curely, and  was  about  to  mount  when  he  noticed 
Charley  acting  queerly,  nodding  his  head  up  and 
down  and  striking  his  saddle-girth  with  his  nose. 

Tom  thought  the  saddle-girth  was  hurting  the 
horse,  but  when  he  felt  the  girth,  his  hand  touch- 
ed something  soft  and  warm  and  Tom  knew.  He 
removed  the  saddle,  took  a  nice,  warm  wool  blank- 
et from  under  it,  and  wrapped  it  around  Betty. 
He  mounted,  and  with  the  semi-conscious  girl  in 
his  arms  and  pressed  closely  to  his  breast  they 
started  on  that  long,  dark  and  dangerous  trail. 

Dave  Ash  and  his  wife  were  sitting  beside 
the  rock  fireplace,  cleaning  up  guns  and  discussing 
the  awful  tragedies  that  had  happened  back  in 
Tennessee,  rehearsing  all  the  bad  deeds  that  had 
been  committed  back  home ;  but  they  both  vowed 
that  this  was  the  worst  and  most  desperate  thing 
that  had  ever  happened  to  their  knowledge.  And 
Dave  "allowed"  that  by  this  time  the  three  bad 
Texans  had  surrounded  Tom. 

"And,"  said  Dave,  "as  soon  as  his  horse  slows 
down  a  bit,  so  as  he  will  not  hurt  Betty  by  falling, 
they'll  shoot  the  horse,  capture  the  boy,  put  about 
three  ropes  around  his  neck,  and  with  one  ridin* 
ahead  and  one  on  each  side,  bring  him  right  here 
for  me  to  pass  judgment  on.  And  you  know  what 
rd  say,  don't  you,  Ma?  The  only  trouble  will  be 
—116— 


THE  HARVEST  OP  HATRED 

the  trees  don't  grow  high  enough!  Maybe  they 
just  rode  right  up  beside  him  and  took  him  off  that 
hoss,  for  them  Texans  ain't  afraid  of  nothin'." 

"But  I  am  afraid  they  will  hurt  Betty,"  said 
Mrs.  Ash,  after  looking  into  the  fire  awhile. 

"Don't  worry,  Ma;  them  fellers  didn't  come 
out  here  for  nuthin'.  They'll  catch  that  feller  so 
slick  he  won't  know  what's  happened,  it'll  be  done 
so  quick,  and  Betty  will  just  get  a  little  shaking  up 
from  goin'  over  that  fence.  Say,  Ma,  it  takes 
some  hoss  to  clear  that  'bob-wire'  fence  with  two 
people  on  his  back.  And  he  didn't  even  'light — 
he  just  hit  the  ground  runnin'.  Did  you  notice 
how  quick  them  fellers  got  into  action  when  some- 
thin'  did  happen?  I  didn't  get  my  breath  hardly 
after  he  grabbed  Betty,  until  here  they  come, 
Winchesters  and  six-shooters  all  on  and  ridin'  like 
Comanche  Indians.  That  boy  sure  used  poor  judg- 
ment! I  tell  you.  Ma,  it  was  a  lucky  day  when  I 
sent  to  Texas  for  them  fellers." 

Just  then  Ma  said,  "Listen!  I  hear  horses 
coming!" 

Mr.  Ash  said,  "That  means  Betty  is  coming, 
and  that  rascal  is  about  draggin'  behind,  for  I  hear 
them  and  they  are  comin'  slow.  What  did  I  tell 
you.  Ma,  about  them  fellers?  Well,  we'll  go  out 
and  wait  for  them  to  come  up.  One  thing  sure, 
that  boy  is  dead,  everything  is  so  quiet.  It's  al- 
ways that  way,  they  say,  when  some  one  is  killed." 

Up  came  the  three  white  horses,  saddled  and 
bridled,  but  riderless. 

—117— 


SILENT 

"What  does  this  mean?"  they  said  to  each 
other. 

They  examined  the  horses  and  found  them 
apparently  unharmed,  and  they  both  knew  what 
had  happened.  Dave  Ash  was  fearful  and  angry 
together.  He  told  his  wife  that  he  had  stood  all 
he  could,  and  now  he  was  going  to  kill  somebody. 
And  Mrs.  Ash  said  that  she  could  not  blame  him, 
as  it  was  enough  to  drive  anybody  to  distraction. 

So  Mr.  Ash  strapped  on  two  six-shooters,  took 
a  rifle  in  his  right  hand,  tied  the  three  white 
horses  together,  and  leading  them  with  his  left 
hand,  started  over  to  Mr.  Bear's. 

Aron  and  Silent  were  out  in  front  of  the 
house  in  the  road,  apparently  unarmed.  Susan 
was  in  the  kitchen,  sobbing  as  silently  as  pos- 
sible, but  she  could  be  heard  plainly.  Dave  held 
up  his  left  hand,  with  which  he  was  leading  the 
horses,  and  shouted  at  the  top  of  his  voice  in  the 
darkness : 

"That  plague-taked  boy  of  your'n  killed  all 
three  of  them  fellers  that  were  working  for  me! 
What  have  you  got  to  say  for  yourself?" 

"I  have  nothing  to  say,  Mr.  Ash,  I  am  a  brok- 
en and  ruinned  man,"  answered  Aron.  "All  that 
I  can  say  is  that  I  am  sorry  for  you  and  your  fam- 
ily. And  about  the  only  thing  left  to  live  for  is 
to  help  you  bring  my  own  son  back  to  justice." 

That  took  some  of  the  fighting  spirit  out  of 
Dave.  He  had  half  a  notion  to  feel  sorry  for  Aron. 
He  could  hear  Mrs.  Bear  sobbing  and  saying  to 
herself: 

—lis— 


r 


THE  HARVEST  OF  HATKED 

"No,  no!  My  baby  never  done  anything 
wrong!  He  couldn't  do  it!  No,  no,  no!"  she 
would  murmur  over  and  over. 

Dave  looked  at  Silent  through  the  dusk.  He 
looked  again  and  he  wondered  what  kind  of  a  man 
Silent  was.  He  did  not  look  as  though  he  felt 
sorry  or  happy,  or  had  ever  had  any  likes  or  dis- 
likes, successes  or  reverses.  In  fact,  he  looked  to 
Dave  to  have  just  the  same  expression  as  the 
f(3nce  post  he  was  resting  his  hand  upon. 

Aron  assured  Dave  again  that  he  would  help 
in  any  way  possible.  Silent  even  gave  a  nod  in 
tlie  affirmative  when  asked  if  he  would  assist  in 
bringing  Tom  back.  Dave  felt  much  better  now 
w  hen  he  turned  to  go  back  home.  And  the  only 
audible  sound  was  the  quiet  sobbing  in  the  kitchen. 

As  Dave  walked  back,  he  began  to  think,  "I 
sure  do  feel  sorry  for  that  woman,  and  I  kinda 
feel  sorry  for  that  old  man.  But  I  believe  the  old 
devil  is  lyin'  just  to  get  a  chance  to  help  that  boy 
of  his'n.  And  that  feller  that  don*t  say  nothinM 
Somethin*  funny  about  him !  Don't  think  he's  got 
much  sense." 

Dave  got  home  and  he  and  his  wife  went  to 
bed,  but  there  v/as  very  little  sleep.  They  would 
both  awaken  at  the  slightest  sound.  Along  in 
t  le  night,  some  time  before  daylight,  they  thought 
t  ley  could  hear  voices  in  the  distance ;  and  finally 
they  were  convinced  that  they  did  hear  someone 
talking. 

They  both  got  up  and  dressed,  and  Dave  pre- 

—110— 


SILENT 

pared  for  the  worst.  The  voices  came  right  up 
close  and  stopped.    Dave  called  out: 

"Who's  there,  and  what  do  you  want?" 

"We're  the  fellers  that  work  for  you.  Our 
horses  were  shot  down  under  us,  and  it  took  us 
nearly  all  night  to  walk  home,"  shouted  the  Tex- 
ans. 

Mr.  Ash  went  out  to  the  gate  to  meet  them, 
and  they  exchanged  views.  Long  after  daylight 
they  were  still  there,  and  exhausted  as  to  any 
idea  that  would  unravel  the  miracle.  Then  Dave 
started  toward  the  Bears'  house. 

"Where  you  goin'?"  asked  the  leading  Texan, 
puzzled  at  the  actions  of  Dave. 

"That  old  feller  has  been  blowin'  about  help- 
in*,  and  right  now  I  am  goin'  to  give  him  a 
chance." 

More  excited  than  ever,  Dave  arrived  at 
Aron's,  and  before  he  got  to  the  house,  called  out : 

"Come  on,  if  you  want  to  help." 

Again  he  called,  "Come  on!" 

Aron  met  him  at  the  gate,  and  Dave,  almost 
out  of  breath,  exclaimed: 

"Them  three  fellers  come  back  before  mom- 
in*  without  a  scratch  on  'em;  and  I  want  you  to 
come  right  over  and  have  a  talk  with  them  fel- 
lers, and  see  if  we  can  figger  out  what's  hap- 
pened." 

They  started  immediately  for  Dave's  home, 

as  Aron  was  a  man  of  his  word — there  was  never 

any  deviation  from  that,  and  when  he  told  Dave 

he  would  help  him  in  any  way  he  could,  he  meant 

—120— 


THE  HARVEST  OF  HATRED 

it  just  that  way.  For,  a§  he  had  told  Dave  before, 
his  only  object  in  life  was  to  bring  his  own  boy 
back  to  justice. 

Silent,  hearing  all  this,  did  not  just  like  the 
idea  of  Aron's  visit.  The  thought  of  four  to  one 
did  not  suit  him  a  little  bit.  After  darting  back 
to  the  house  and  coming  out  straightening  out 
his  coat  and  buttoning  it,  he  sauntered  along  be- 
hind with  his  head  down  and  his  hands  folded 
behind.  He  was  in  a  deep  study.  How  had  it 
happened?  He  suddenly  raised  his  head  and  his 
hands  began  to  sv/ing  by  his  sides  as  he  started 
walking  faster.    He  had  thought  it  all  out ! 

He  remembered  teaching  Tom  how  to  shoot 
a  horse  through  the  muscle  on  the  top  of  its  neck, 
and  in  that  way  knock  the  horse  out  for  the  time 
being,  the  same  as  a  knock-out  blow  in  the  prize 
ring.  The  horse  would  recover  in  a  few  minutes 
and  be  as  well  as  ever,  with  the  possible  exception 
of  a  little  stiffness  in  the  neck. 

"But  then,"  he  said  to  himself,  "Tom  has  such 
a  small  rifle  I  am  not  sure  the  ball  was  large 
enough  to  cause  the  shock." 

He  had  forgotten  about  teaching  Tom  to 
mushroom  bullets  to  give  them  more  destructive 
power. 

Aron  and  Dave  arrived  and,  together  with 
the  Texans,  formed  a  small  party  for  consultation. 
Silent  came  up  and  stayed  back  a  short  distance 
from  the  group,  where  the  wildest  conjectures 
prevailed.  Ghost  stories,  miracles,  powers  di- 
rected from  above  were  discussed,  until  the  blame 
—121— 


SILENT 

was  centered  on  the  three  white  horses  being 
possessed  with  some  evil. 

Then  Silent  spoke  two  words:  "They're 
creased." 

"For  God's  sake!"  said  the  leading  Texan,  "I 
never  thought  of  that  before,  and  I  have  done  it 
many  a  time!" 

They  went  around  to  the  horses,  raised  up 
their  manes,  and  there,  just  as  plain  as  day,  were 
the  wounds  where  the  little  high-powered  mush- 
room bullets  had  passed  through. 

In  making  their  plans  for  the  pursuit, 
the  leading  Texan  kept  trying  to  excuse  himself  in 
various  ways.  Nothmg  in  the  world  hurt  him  so 
badly  as  to  be  outdone,  and  by  a  mere  boy.  He 
finally  contented  himself  with  the  statement  that 
he  did  not  know  that  the  boy  was  a  tried,  trained 
and  desperate  outlaw;  but  as  he  knew  now,  he 
would  treat  him  as  such,  and  from  now  on,  there 
would  be  no  quarter  shown.  The  only  mercy 
shown  would  be  to  the  captive  girl. 


—122— 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE  FUGITIVES  ON  A  DARK  AND  DANGER- 
OUS  TRAIL. 

HILE  elaborate  preparations  were  under 
way  to  capture  the  kidnaper,  Tom  had 
mounted  Charley  with  Betty  in  his  arms 
cold  and  almost  lifeless ;  but  he  kept  her 
hugged  tightly  to  his  breast,  and  with  his  cheek 
pressed  snugly  to  hers,  transmitted  to  her  body 
what  warmth  he  could  in  that  way.  Charley 
made  the  grade  of  that  steep,  rocky  mountain  just 
as  quietly  and  just  as  fast  as  he  thought  his 
top-heavy  load  could  stand  it.  He  had  noticed 
that  his  load  was  very  unsteady  and  he  must  be 
careful,  for  to  let  a  person  fall  off  his  back  would 
be  a  disgrace,  and  if  he  did  such  a  thing,  he  would 
be  classed  as  a  bronco.  He  knew  that  he  had  the 
strength  and  agility  to  stay  under  his  load,  and 
under  it  he  was  going  to  stay.  On  they  went, 
Tom  holding  Betty  just  the  same.  When  they 
reached  the  mountain  top,  Charley  circled  to  the 
right  until  he  came  to  a  low,  flat  place  on  the 
mountain  side,  one  mile  above  a  deep,  dark  creek. 
There  he  stopped  and  partly  turned  his  head  to 
listen  and  see  at  the  same  time.  Tom  straight- 
ened himself  up  and  pressed  his  bare  feet  down 
securely  in  the  cold,  iron  stirrups.  Holding  Betty 
more  securely  than  ever  before,  he  gave  Charley 
the  command  to  go,  and  with  three  cat-like  jumps, 

—123— 


SILENT 

the  horse  landed,  and  turned  squarely  down  the 
hill. 

The  mountain  began  to  move,  with  squeak- 
ing, grinding  and  crashing  noises,  under  Charley's 
feet  and  around  him.  Charley  was  satisfied  now 
that  he  had  started  a  mountain  slide  of  loose  rock, 
and  that  it  would  never  stop  until  it  landed  him 
in  the  creek  bottom  below.  With  his  head  down 
hill  he  could  see  to  keep  in  the  middle  of  the  slide ; 
and  at  times,  when  his  forefeet  would  catch  on  a 
solid  rock  or  snag,  he  would  jump  clear  of  it  and 
land  in  the  rolling,  grinding  mass  far  below;  in 
that  way  he  would  help  the  slide  to  go  faster.  He 
was  getting  restless;  this  was  very  slow  time  for 
him  to  make;  and  he  was  in  such  a  hurry;  for 
he  knew  there  was  danger  behind ! 

On  reaching  the  end  of  the  slide  and  the  creek 
bottom,  it  was  very  dark,  and  a  new  problem  and 
terror  was  presented.  The  water  in  the  creek  was 
from  ankle-deep  to  breast-deep,  except  in  places 
where  it  would  suddenly  drop  off  to  an  unknov*'n 
depth. 

With  a  prayer  to  his  Maker  for  his  fair  un- 
derstanding of  things  and  his  keen  scent  of  dan- 
ger, he  was  confident  that  he  would  in  some  way 
be  able  to  warn  Tom,  who  could  steady  himself 
and  prepare  for  whatever  it  might  be — a  leap  over 
snags  and  brush,  or  a  sudden  drop  into  swimming 
water,  and  then  straight  up  and  out  again  to  the 
bank  on  the  other  side.  What  he  feared  most 
was  the  landing  on  the  other  side  of  these  holes, 
as  he  knew  his  body  would  be  standing  straight 
—124— 


FUGITIVES  ON  A  DARK  AND  DANGEROUS  TRAIL 

up  when  he  went  out ;  and  he  was  not  sure  if  Tom 
could  carry  his  weight  in  the  stirrups  with  Betty 
in  his  arms.  He  figured  to  himself  that  if  he  dis- 
covered any  weakness  in  Tom's  legs  when  he 
^^as  lifting  himself  out  of  the  deep  holes,  he 
w  ould  shove  himself  back  into  the  water  and  swim 
around  until  Tom  was  ready  and  told  him  to  go 
again. 

Knowing  that  only  himself  and  Tom  had  ever 
dared  to  travel  this  trail  before,  and  that  only  in 
daylight,  he  was  still  confident  of  his  ability.  With 
his  head  very  low,  his  nose  within  an  inch  of  the 
A^  ater  and  his  ears  thrown  forward  as  far  as  they 
would  go,  he  had  determined  he  would  see,  hear, 
sinell,  or,  in  some  unexplained  way  of  the  horse, 
know  of  the  dangers  as  he  came  to  them.  Thus 
on  they  went,  with  Charley  guarding  the  way,  and 
in  ways  of  his  own,  transferring  the  dangers  to 
Tom. 

After  riding  up  the  creek  bottom  for  sev- 
eral  hours,  Tom  discovered  that  he  was  getting 
so  very  cold  that  poor  cold  Betty  had  begun  to  feel 
warm  to  him.  He  knew  that  when  the  warmth 
left  his  body,  it  would  be  impossible  for  the  girl 
to  keep  warm.  He  must  get  her  out  of  that  cold 
c:"eek  bottom.  The  place  he  had  selected  where 
he  could  leave  the  creek  was  very  far  from  there, 
and  the  banks  were  so  steep  that  it  was  impos- 
sible for  a  man  to  climb  out,  let  alone  a  horse. 
Tom  began  a  resurvey  of  the  creek  as  far  as  he 
had  gone  before  in  daylight.  The  only  thing  that 
—125— 


SILENT 

he  could  remember,  outside  of  the  straight  banks, 
was  a  tree  which  had  fallen  across  the  creek  and 
the  stump  end  had  slid  down  into  the  water.  It 
was  quite  a  jump  over  it  and  he  wondered  if  he 
could  hold  Betty  as  Charley  made  the  jump.  He 
studied  all  ways  and  means  of  getting  themselves 
out  of  that  cold  creek  before  Betty  was  frozen  to 
her  final  death.  Charley  kept  his  steady  pace,  just 
as  he  thought  Tom  wanted  him  to  go,  with  his  ears 
pointing  forward  and  his  nose  touching  the  water, 
still  confident  that  there  was  no  lurking  danger 
that  would  get  the  best  of  his  alertness. 

"Here  is  that  log,"  said  Tom  almost  aloud, 
"and  it  is  larger  than  I  thought  it  was." 

Charley  also  noticed  the  log  and  wondered  if 
Tom  would  be  able  to  stick  on  with  his  charge.  Or 
would  Tom  stop,  get  off  and  let  him  jump  over, 
and  then  get  on  again.  By  that  time  they  were  up 
to  the  log  and  Charley  stopped.  Tom  urged  him  on 
slowly;  Charley  thought  he  understood  and  he 
leaped  across.  Tom  turned  him  around  with  the 
reins  and  urged  him  up  to  the  log  again.  Charley 
decided  that  Tom  was  going  back,  so  he  jumped 
back ;  and  again  Tom  turned  him  around  with  the 
reins  and  urged  him  up  to  the  log. 

Charley  knew  that  something  altogether  dif- 
ferent must  be  done;  this  time  he  was  going  to 
watch  Tom  more  closely  and  he  was  going  to  un- 
derstand. Tom  took  him  by  the  mane,  reined  him 
up  sideways  to  the  log  and  urged  him  on;  but 
Charley  could  not  understand.  Tom  kept  urging 
him  on  until  at  last  Charley  planked  one  front  foot 
—126— 


^ 


FUGITIVES  ON  A  DARK  AND  DANGEROUS  TRAIL 

on  the  top  of  the  log  and  waited.  Tom  petted  him 
on  the  neck  and  then  he  knew.  But  how  was  he 
going  to  do  it  ? 

Tom  had  been  holding  Betty  as  high  as  pos- 
sible to  keep  her  out  of  the  water,  carrying  her 
in  his  left  arm  and  over  his  left  shoulder.  Charley 
knew  that  the  awful  lunge  he  must  make  to  get 
all  four  of  his  feet  on  that  log  would  jerk  Betty 
of;'  from  Tom's  shoulder.  So  they  both  hesitated 
for  a  minute.  Then,  sliding  himself  back  in  the 
saddle,  Tom  let  Betty  slip  down  into  the  saddle  in 
front  of  him,  holding  her  head  in  his  left  arm ;  and 
with  his  right  hand  he  urged  Charley  on.  The 
horse  raised  himself  on  his  hind  legs  and  squatted 
for  the  spring.  When  he  jumped  he  landed  right  on 
top  of  the  log  with  all  four  feet. 

Tom  reined  him  to  the  left  and  he  started  on 
the  trip  up  the  log.  Each  hoof  he  planked  down, 
**tiger  fashion,"  so  as  to  sink  the  calks  of  his  new 
shoes  into  the  log  and  eliminate  any  chance  of  a 
slip.  For  Charley  knew  as  well  as  the  others  that 
a  slip  on  that  log  meant  the  end  of  the  trip.  Up 
the  log  he  went.  Caution  is  not  the  word  to  de- 
scribe the  horse's  method,  it  was  more  than  that, 
each  step  was  guarded  individually.  He  looked  as 
best  he  could  in  the  darkness,  rubbed  his  nose  on 
the  bark  to  try  and  discover  if  it  was  loose ;  and  he 
felt  cautiously  with  each  foot  before  he  planked 
it  down  for  the  next  step.  When  he  reached  the 
baak,  he  kept  right  on  going  until  the  tree  began 
to  get  too  small  for  his  feet.  Then  he  knew  he 
was  safe  and  he  leaped  to  the  ground  below. 


SILENT 

Tom  alighted  and  said  to  himself  out  loud : 
"I  must  build  a  fire  and  warm  this  girl." 
"I  am  not  cold,"  said  Betty,  clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly.   "I  have  been  warm  for  some  time." 

Then,  discovering  that  she  had  on  Tom's 
shoes,  stockings,  coat  and  shirt,  besides  Charley's 
saddle  blanket,  she  said: 

"Take  off  those  shoes  and  stockings  and  put 
them  on  yourself,  you  silly  boy.  Don't  freeze 
yourself  to  death  just  because  I  had  to  get  foolish 
and  swoon  off  like  those  high-toned  ladies  we  read 
about.  And  put  this  blanket  back  on  that  horse's 
back.    He  is  not  to  blame  for  what  we  do." 

Tom  did  as  she  said,  except  that  he  cut  the 
blanket  in  two  and  divided  it.  After  a  few  more 
hurried  preparations,  they  were  on  their  way 
again.  They  followed  beside  the  creek  on  the 
bank  to  the  place  where  they  originally  expected 
to  leave  the  water.  About  the  only  sound  audible 
was  the  gentle  flap  of  Charley's  feet  as  they  patted 
the  damp  sod  under  them.  They  could  see  the 
place  where  they  must  leave  the  creek  and  follow 
a  canyon  to  the  top  of  the  mountains  again.  They 
started  up  this  steep  and  almost  impassable  way. 
The  horse  stopped,  and  pawing  the  ground  with 
one  front  foot,  put  his  nose  to  the  ground  and 
snorted,  almost  defiantly.  Tom  urged  him  on,  and 
on  he  went.  But  it  was  the  first  thing  that  he  could 
not  understand;  why  Tom  should  turn  his  shoes 
backward,  just  after  he  had  done  the  most  heroic 
thing  in  his  life — climbing  out  of  that  cold,  dark 
creek  on  a  log.  But  Tom  knew  that  the  ones  hunt- 

—128— 


FUGITIVES  ON  A  DARK  AND  DANGEROUS  TRAIL 

ing  them  would  be  looking  for  tracks  going  from 
the  creek,  not  into  it.  So  up  Charley  went,  zig- 
zagging his  way  from  cliff  to  crag,  higher  and 
higher,  until  they  reached  the  top.  And  there  they 
found  the  little  hut  that  Tom  had  prepared. 

It  had  been  one  long,  eventful  night  since 
Tom  had  decided  to  start  on  this  desperate  mis- 
sion ;  and  after  he  took  off  the  saddle  and  bridle, 
Charley  was  at  a  loss  which  to  do,  rest  or  eat.  So, 
after  sizing  up  the  abundance  of  good  grass,  he 
decided  to  rest.  After  resting  a  short  time,  he  got 
up  and  ate  until  almost  daylight.  Then  he  again 
lay  down,  and  putting  the  end  of  his  nose  on  the 
ground  to  rest  comfortably,  took  a  short  nap.  He 
was  up  and  ready  to  go  at  daybreak.  Tom  was 
up  but  did  not  want  to  go  further.  After  taking 
Charley's  shoes  off  in  order  to  save  them,  Tom 
began  to  cook  breakfast.  There  seemed  to  be 
quite  a  variety  of  provisions  stored  in  the  shack, 
and  it  did  not  take  long.  Betty  arose,  washed  her 
face  and  hands  and  appeared  happy  and  contented, 
as  every  woman  should  appear  to  get  the  most  out 
of  life  whether  she  is  satisfied  with  her  surround- 
ings or  not. 


—129— 


CHAPTER  XII. 

SILENT  ON  GUARD. 

|AAL,"  said  the  leading  Texan,  "now  that 
we  have  our  plans  laid  to  capture  that 
boy,  I  suppose  Mr.  Bear  will  go  with  us, 
as  he  has  said  several  times    that    he 
wanted  to  help  us  bring  the  boy  to  justice." 

The  Texans  did  not  really  want  Mr.  Bear 
along,  as  they  wanted  to  give  Tom  a  "dirty  deal" 
when  they  found  him,  just  to  "get  even."  Mr. 
Bear  answered  in  just  the  way  they  wanted  and 
just  the  way  they  had  figured  he  would,  other- 
wise  they  would  not  have  asked  him  to  go.  He 
said  that,  as  it  was  his  boy  and  their  only  child, 
he  would  prefer  to  stay  and  comfort  the  lad's 
mother;  but  at  any  time  they  felt  that  they 
needed  him  for  any  purpose,  he  would  go,  regard- 
less of  his  own  or  his  wife's  feelings.  And  again 
he  wanted  to  assure  them  that  he  was  sincere  in 
everything  that  he  said,  and  they  could  trust  him 
absolutely. 

In  addition  to  that,  he  said,  he  was  going  to 
offer  the  services  of  his  man  Silent.  He  turned 
and  asked  Silent  if  he  would  go  with  the  others 
and  do  his  best  toward  bringing  his  boy  back. 
Silent  nodded  that  he  would.  Mr.  Bear  then  ex- 
plained that,  while  his  man  had  very  little  to  say, 
they  had  recognized  him  to  be  a  very  worthy  and 
trusted  man.    And  added: 

—130— 


SILENT  ON  GUARD 

"As  to  being  afraid,  we  have  never  seen  him 
excited  yet,  and  have  considered  him  to  be  a  man 
without  fear." 

Before  anyone  had  a  chance  to  say  anything, 
Dave  Ash  answered  that  the  proposition  of  Mr. 
Bear  looked  plumb  good  and  honest  to  him,  add- 
ing: 

"And  I  am  like  Mr.  Bear.  I  would  like  to 
stay  with  my  daughter's  mother,  as  she  is  very 
sad  since  we  lost  our  only  child." 

So  the  posse  was  made  up  of  the  three  Tex- 
ans  and  Silent.  As  the  postmaster  said,  when  he 
saw  Silent  with  the  Texans : 

"They  are  just  exactly  alike — only  different." 

The  leading  Texan,  taking  command  as  usual, 
directed  each  one  to  a  different  route  in  the  same 
direction.  And  he  would  designate  the  stopping- 
place  at  night  by  a  big  fire;  and  the  others  were 
to  come  to  the  fire  at  night  and  report  to  the 
leader  what  they  had  seen  or  done  that  day. 
Then  they  were  to  hobble  out  their  horses  and 
get  supper.  Silent  was  to  get  the  wood  and  water 
and  the  other  two  Texans  were  to  do  the  cooking. 

Week  after  week  they  hunted  without  suc- 
cess. Not  even  a  sign  of  anything  that  would  in- 
dicate which  way  the  boy  had  gone.  They  had 
ridden  over  the  tracks  up  to  the  rock  slide,  but 
from  there  on  there  were  no  tracks.  With  each 
trip  back  for  provisions,  they  were  more  disheart- 
ened than  before.  The  Texans  began  to  get  mean 
and  sullen  toward  Silent,  but  he  never  complained 
to  anyone.  He  always  seemed  anxious,  or  it 
—131— 


SILENT 

might  be  said,  determined,  to  stay  with  them  and 
help  hunt. 

Mr.  Bear  seemed  the  most  anxious  of  any 
one.  He  wanted  it  over  with,  whatever  it  was, 
and  it  mattered  little  to  him  what  it  was.  His  in- 
terest in  life  had  left  him,  and  he  said  that  all  he 
lived  for  was  to  prove  to  his  wife  and  the  rest  of 
the  world  that  he  did  not  approve  of  the  selfish 
and  cowardly  act  of  his  son.  He  made  a  new 
proposition  to  Mr.  Ash,  after  they  had  exhausted 
all  efforts  to  find  the  boy.  He  said  that,  several 
days*  ride  to  the  east,  there  lived  a  tribe  of  In- 
dians called  the  Tejones,  who  had  the  name  of  be- 
ing great  trailers.  If  Mr.  Ash  would  send  one  of 
his  men  after  them,  he  would  pay  the  bill.  So 
that  was  agreed,  and  the  Texan  that  had  the  best 
sense  of  direction  was  sent. 

When  the  Texan  found  the  Indians,  there 
were  so  many  trailers  among  them  that  he  hesi- 
tated. But  his  instructions  were:  "Bring  all  the 
trailers." 

After  the  Texan  had  made  motions  until  his 
hands  were  tired  out,  one  of  the  Indians  spoke  up 
in  very  good  English.  He  said  that  the  miners 
passing  through  to  the  west  had  taught  him  some 
English;  and  also  there  had  been  United  States 
soldiers  there,  who  had  built  a  fort  called  Fort 
Tejon.  After  a  bargain  to  take  their  pay  in  cattle 
and  horses,  the  Indians  agreed  to  help  him  find 
the  kidnapped  girl. 

Aron  wondered  if  he  had  enough  cattle  and 
horses  to  pay  the  bill  when  he  saw  that  army  of 
—132— 


SILENT  ON  GUARD 

Indians  when  they  came.  But  after  being  assured 
by  the  interpreter  that  they  only  wanted  small  pay 
and  that  their  desire  was  to  be  good  and  friendly 
to  the  white  men,  he  was  satisfied. 

The  leading  Texan  took  complete  command 
of  the  army  of  trailers  and  rehearsed  the  plans  of 
the  man-hunt  over  with  the  Indian  who  could  talk. 

Silent  was,  as  usual,  in  the  kitchen  helping 
Mrs.  Bear  with  her  work;  and  Mrs.  Bear  talked  to 
him  without  even  expecting  an  answer.  Every 
night,  when  she  was  kneading  biscuits  with  her 
right  hand,  her  left  hand,  with  her  apron  in  it, 
was  drying  away  the  tears.  And  thus  she  would 
knead  and  cry  and  talk  to  herself ;  and  would  say, 
as  Silent  had  heard  her  say,  over  and  over  again : 

"My  boy  was  a  good  boy.  He  couldn't  do 
anything  wrong.  He  kissed  his  mamma  good 
night  every  night.    He  never  told  any  lies." 

And  then,  in  a  baby  voice,  as  though  she  were 
talking  to  her  baby,  she  would  say: 

"No,  no!  he  didn't  do  it!  He  couldn't  do  it! 
No,  no,  no!  He  never  did  anything  wrong!  No, 
no,  no!" 

Silent  felt  awfully  bad.  He  thought  that,  if 
he  could  only  change  places  with  that  boy  and  give 
him  back  to  his  mother,  it  would  be  the  last  and 
greatest  privilege  of  his  life. 

And,  of  course,  at  the  post  office  and  store 
at  Coalinga,  where  everyone  in  the  community 
met  and  gossiped,  stories  of  all  kinds  were  in  cir- 
culation. The  one  generally  conceded  to  be  about 
right  was  that  the  fury  of  the  Lord  had  caused 
—133— 


SILENT 

the  ground  to  open  and  swallow  Tom  and  Betty 
in  a  deep  crevice ;  and  it  had  then  closed  again  to 
hide  them  forever,  the  one  from  shame,  the  oth- 
er from  society. 

When  the  three  Texans  came  to  town  they 
were  the  center  of  all  interest.  The  postmaster 
invited  them  to  come  over  to  his  cabin  and  eat, 
and  even  offered  to  take  over  some  canned  oysters 
and  tomatoes,  and  open  them  up  for  the  occasion. 
The  Texans  did  not  like  to  talk  much,  but  after 
accepting  the  offer  of  the  canned  goods,  they 
"opened  up"  a  little.  They  told  the  postmaster 
that  they  were  men  of  the  world  and  were  not 
born  yesterday  nor  today.  They  touched  on  their 
operations  around  Devil's  Den,  and  how  easily 
they  had  picked  up  the  bad  men  but  that  boy  had 
shown  them  something  new.  As  to  "creasing"  the 
horses,  that  was  "old  stuff";  they  had  captured 
wild  horses  many  times  that  way  before. 

"But  that  flip-flop  he  did  when  he  did  that 
shootin*  was  new  to  us.  Why  if  I  done  that," 
said  the  leading  Texan,  "flop  myself  over  on  the 
side  of  my  horse  with  a  grown  gal  in  my  lap,  I 
would  puil  my  hoss  right  off  his  feet  and  right  on 
top  of  us  and  kill  us  both." 

**Well,  didn't  his  horse  stumble?"  asked  the 
excited  postmaster. 

"Hoss?  He's  no  hoss — he's  human.  Say, 
Mister  Postmaster,  let  me  tell  you  somethin'  about 
hosses.  From  the  time  we  began  gainin'  on  that 
hoss  until  the  end,  that  hoss  never  looked  at  where 
he  was  agoin'.  He  just  watched  that  boy;  and 
—134— 


I 


SILENT  ON  GUARD 

whatever  that  boy  wanted  that  hoss  done  it  right 
now.  The  only  time  that  hoss  ever  took  his  eye 
off  that  boy  was  when  he  watched  us.  And  he 
sure  kept  an  eye  on  us.  When  we  began  to  man- 
euver to  kill  that  hoss,  and  we  sure  was  about  to 
do  it,  I  believe  right  now  that  he  told  that  boy.  For 
when  that  boy  grabbed  the  gun  and  made  that 
flop,  the  hoss  flopped  the  other  way  and  put  the 
boy  right  up  straight,  where  he  couldn't  have 
missed  if  he  had  tried  to.  And  the  last  we  seen 
of  him  he  was  still  runnin'  on  his  side  thataway. 
Course,  when  our  horses  fell,  we  run  after  him  on 
foot,  thinkin'  that  hoss  might  fall,  but  never  a 
stumble." 

After  the  visit  of  the  Texans,  the  postmaster 
seemed  to  change.  He  began  to  look  at  things  in 
a  broader  way.  Could  it  be  that  Tom  was  such  a 
terrible  bad  boy  and  still  have  a  horse  love  him 
like  that?  Horses  do  not  love  unless  the  love  is 
returned.  The  two  things  did  not  hitch  up  just 
right  with  the  postmaster,  and  he  wasn't  going 
to  think  about  the  boy  as  being  lost  altogether. 
And  the  mob  talk,  which  had  been  decided  on  as 
a  proper  climax,  he  was  not  going  to  be  a  party  to 
that  any  more. 

The  posse,  now  reenforced  by  the  army  of 
Indian  trailers,  was  operating  in  a  new  way.  Sil- 
ent and  the  three  Texans  took  the  pack  train  to 
a  certain  place  and  made  camp.  The  trailers 
would  comb  the  country  in  a  circle  around  the 
camp,  and  while  some  of  them  would  be  bringing 
in  reports,  the  others  would  be  searching  further 
—135— 


SILENT 

on.  After  the  hunt  had  gone  on  many  days  with- 
out encouragement,  the  Texans  began  to  get 
grouchy  and  mean  again.  They  would  continually 
pick  at  Silent,  whom  they  had  nicknamed  the 
"Kurdistan  Chief."  And  they  all  laughed  and 
seemed  to  have  great  fun  at  the  nickname.  But 
that  got  old  and  there  was  no  more  fun.  Some- 
times they  would  ask  Silent  to  talk,  and  if  the 
poor  fellow  tried  to  say  anything,  they  would  all 
jibe  him  and  make  so  many  insulting  remarks  that 
Silent  would  get  out  of  the  notion  again. 

The  same  thing  was  going  on  every  day  and 
every  night,  and  from  bad  to  worse,  until  Silent 
began  to  fear  that  they  would  refuse  to  have  him 
with  them  at  all,  which  would  never  do,  as  he  had 
promised  Mr.  Bear  that  he  would  go  and  help  to 
bring  the  boy  back,  and  he  must  do  that.  Besides, 
Silent  had  desires  of  his  own.  So  he  decided  that, 
if  he  would  talk  a  little,  it  would  be  better,  and 
he  asked  the  leader  what  a  "Kurdistan  Chief"  was. 

The  Texan  answered  that  Kurdistan  was  a 
little,  rough,  mountainous  country  in  Asia,  adjoin- 
ing Persia,  and  controlled  by  a  brigand  called  a 
Sheik.  Under  him  are  chiefs,  who  take  out  small 
bands  and  watch  on  the  hill-tops  for  caravans  of 
camels  loaded  with  merchandise.  And  without  a 
word,  this  chief  swoops  down  on  the  Persian  mer- 
chants and  robs  them.  The  loot  is  taken  straight 
to  the  Sheik,  where  it  is  divided  equally. 

"Is  that  all  they  do?"  asked  one  of  the  Tex- 
ans. 

"No,"  said  the  leader,  "they  make  rugs,  and 
— ise— 


SILENT  ON  GUARD 

it  is  said  they  are  better  than  Persian  rugs.  Each 
rug  is  a  map  of  the  place  where  they  worship ;  and 
they  get  on  this  rug  to  worship  their  prophet  who 
is  not  always  Mohammed." 

"Well,  why  do  I  remind  you  of  them  ?"  asked 
Silent. 

"Because,"  said  the  leader,  "that  Kurdistan 
chief  stands  on  the  top  of  that  mountain  for  days 
without  saying  a  word — just  silently  waiting  and 
watching  for  the  object  he  has  in  view.  And  this 
man  strikes  me  as  funny  at  times,  fellers,"  he  said, 
addressing  the  other  two  Texans. 

Then  the  leader  looked  long  and  earnestly 
at  Silent,  as  much  as  to  say : 

"I  believe  you  have  some  object  in  view,  and 
will  swoop  down  when  the  opportunity  comes." 

The  shot  landed  all  right.  Silent  understood 
what  the  Texan  was  driving  at.  So  he  thought 
he  had  better  talk  some  more,  since  he  could  see 
that  the  gap  between  them  was  getting  wider  all 
the  time.  The  others  might  have  a  suspicion  that 
his  silent  watching  had  an  object,  and  he  must 
throw  them  off,  as  there  must  be  no  break — not 
then. 

So  the  next  night  at  the  camp-fire,  after  the 
"Talkin*  Injun"  had  reported  to  the  leading  Texan 
all  the  findings  of  the  trailers  for  the  day,  there 
being,  as  usual  nothing  of  interest  to  report,  and 
everything  had  simmered  down,  as  before,  to 
quietness,  the  Texans  resumed  their  sarcastic  re- 
marks to  him. 

Silent  said,  "Well,  fellers,  I'm  not  much  at 
—137— 


SILENT 

stories,  but  Til  tell  you  what  happened  to  me  once, 
if  you  fellers  care  to  listen." 

*'Go  ahead,"  they  replied,  "We  can  stand  any- 
thing once." 

And  they  all  rolled  over  toward  him  to  listen 
to  Silent's  story. 

"When  I  left  East  Texas,  I  rode  up  through 
the  Red  river  bottom,  on  the  Arkansas  side.  Not 
bein'  particular  to  have  everybody  knowin'  just 
when  and  where  I  went,  I  stayed  in  that  river- 
bottom  road.  I  was  goin'  west,  like  all  people  that 
want  to  improve  their  ways  and  fortunes.  I  had 
been  sleepin'  out  for  several  nights,  and  wasn't 
feelin'  well. 

"So  that  evenin'  I  came  upon  a  store  and 
stoppin'-place,  all  in  one.  An  old  man  kept  the 
store  in  the  front,  lived  and  kept  house  in  the 
back,  and  had  a  double  row  of  rooms  for  lodgers 
up  stairs.  I  found  his  prices  were  reasonable  and 
decided  to  take  a  good  rest  for  one  night.  I  put 
up  my  horse,  and  after  the  old  man  had  cooked 
supper,  he  entertained  me  by  telling  me  the  his- 
tory of  the  place.  It  seemed,  from  his  story,  that 
every  owner  of  the  place  but  him  was  dead.  They 
had  either  been  murdered  for  money  or  some 
quarrel  had  come  up  and  they  were  killed.  Mur- 
der after  murder  was  related.  He  showed  me 
bullet-holes  in  the  sides  of  the  house,  where  the 
bullet  went  after  it  had  killed  so  and  so.  Finally, 
after  I  had  told  him  that  I  wanted  to  go  to  bed, 
he  led  me  around  to  the  back  end  of  that  two- 
story  house,  still  pointing  out  in  the  moonlight 
—138— 


SILENT  ON  GUARD 

and  the  shadows  where  so  and  so  fell.  Pointing 
to  the  stairway  in  the  back  and  outside  the  house, 
he  said: 

"  *You  can  just  go  up  thar  and  take  any  of 
them  beds.    Nobody  else  up  thar  but  you.' 

"So  I  walked  up  the  stairway  on  the  outside, 
entered  the  only  door,  and  put  a  chair  under  the 
knob,  which  securely  locked  it.  I  looked  in  all  the 
other  rooms,  and  as  he  said,  I  was  the  only  one 
up  there.  The  only  door  leading  out  was  locked 
with  a  chair,  and  I  was  safe  for  the  night.  I  took 
the  first  room  nearest  the  door,  and  laid  down  for 
a  good  night's  rest.  I  could  look  out  the  window 
from  my  bed  and  see  that  the  building  stood 
among  some  big  tall  cottonwood  trees,  and  that 
the  ground  was  covered  with  leaves.  There  was 
just  enough  breeze  blowing  to  move  the  tops  of 
those  trees  back  and  forth,  and  that  movement 
would  cast  peculiar  shadows  on  the  leaf-covered 
ground. 

I  watched  and  watched  the  shadows,  until 
they  became  life-like.  They  seemed  as  if  they 
were  beings,  gathering  together  in  small  groups, 
and  then  departing  like  magic.  I  finally  went  to 
sleep,  only  to  be  awakened  in  a  short  time  on 
account  of  the  covers  being  partly  pulled  off  me. 
I  sat  up  in  bed  and  looked  all  around,  but  could 
see  nothing.  I  noticed  it  was  awfully  still.  I  had 
never  heard  anything  so  still  before.  I  could  hear 
the  leaves  hit  the  ground,  as  they  fell  off  the  trees, 
and  that  was  the  only  sound  to  be  heard. 

"I  pulled  the  covers  back,  lay  down  again, 
—139— 


SILENT 

and  finally  went  to  sleep  for  the  second  time. 
Again  I  was  awakened  the  same  as  before.  This 
time  the  covers  were  pulled  clear  off.  This  sec- 
ond offense  compelled  me  to  get  up,  and  get  up 
right.  So  I  slipped  my  pistols  from  under  my  pil- 
low and  buckled  them  on.  There  was  no  sound. 
It  was  more  quiet  than  before.  I  stepped  on  the 
bare  floor  with  my  bare  feet,  and  every  joint  in 
my  toes  and  legs  cracked  like  sticks  breaking. 
The  floor  also  cracked  and  recracked,  and  echoed 
clear  down  to  the  end  room. 

*The  awful  noise  that  I  made  when  I  gently 
stepped  on  that  bare  floor,  almost  took  my  breath. 
But  I  was  determined  to  fight  whatever  it  was. 
So  I  went  out  into  the  hallway  and  looked  in  ev- 
ery room  on  each  side  of  the  hall.  Bewildered, 
I  began  to  think  and  I  remembered  that  I  had  not 
looked  in  the  end  room,  opposite  the  room  that 
I  had  occupied.  And,  when  I  turned  to  look  that 
way,  a  form  appeared  in  the  doorway  of  that  room. 
It  was  clad  in  some  thin  stuff  I  had  never  seen  be- 
fore. The  poor,  bony  limbs  looked  just  like  skin 
and  bones,  and  it  carried  what  appeared  to  be  a 
small  light  in  one  hand. 

"I  darted  into  the  room  nearest  me  and  the 
ghost  did  the  same  thing.  I  darted  out  again, 
and  the  thing  did  the  same.  I  darted  into  the 
next  room  and  it  did  the  same,  and  that  was  what 
I  wanted — to  get  to  it,  whatever  it  was,  and  have 
it  out.  So  I  stepped  into  the  next  room  and  again 
it  followed  suit.  The  next  time  it  appeared  it  be- 
gan to  take  on  the  proportions  of  a  man;  and 
—140— 


SILENT  ON  GUARD 

what  appeared  to  be  a  light  carried  in  his  hand, 
v/as  a  bright  and  glittering  dagger.  The  moon 
shining  on  it  through  the  windows,  made  it  glis- 
ten and  actually  cast  out  a  light, 

"I  stepped  quickly  into  the  next  room  and  out 
again;  the  ghost  or  man  or  whatever  it  was  did 
the  same,  and  I  knew  then  that  it  was  only  the 
matter  of  a  few  seconds  until  we  must  meet.  Al- 
though I  would  not  weaken  now,  I  was  getting 
scared.  I  almost  felt  as  if  I  was  too  weak  to  match 
myself  with  such  an  inhuman  being.  I  had  noticed 
that  it  was  carrying  the  dagger  very  high,  with 
the  point  down,  and  most  of  the  pearl  handle  was 
above  its  hand.  I  thought  I  could  grab  that 
handle  at  the  top,  above  the  being's  hand,  hang 
on,  and  call  for  help.  So  I  went  on  from  room  to 
room,  and  on  it  came  until  w^e  were  opposite ;  and 
as  I  darted  out  for  the  last  time,  there  it  was  right 
at  me.    I  grabbed  for  that  dagger!** 

And  then  Silent*s  eyes  traveled  stealthily 
from  one  Texan  to  another  to  see  what  effect 
the  story  had  had.  The  idea  of  the  story  was 
two-fold.  First,  he  wanted  them  to  know  that 
he  was  not  the  tenderfoot  they  thought.  Secondly, 
lie  wanted  to  see  if  he  could  discover,  from  the  ef- 
fects of  the  story,  whether  they  all  had  the  nerve 
to  "stand  hitched**  in  a  tight  place.  He  decided 
1  hat  the  smaller  of  the  trio  was  the  one  to  watch ; 
but  he  did  not  think  that  the  other  two  would 
i^Xand  the  pace  he  knew  that  he  could  set  with  two 
guns  if  he  had  to. 

After  recovering  and  waiting,  the  leader  said : 
—141— 


S  I  LENT 

"What  then?" 

Silent  told  him  that  was  all  there  was  to  it. 
He  had  been  dreaming  and  woke  up  when  he 
grabbed  the  dagger. 

They  all  tried  to  laugh,  but  it  was  a  coarse, 
dry  laugh.  Silent  assured  them  that  it  was  not  a 
laughing  matter,  as  he  was  just  as  badly  scared 
as  if  he  had  been  awake. 

The  "Talkin'  Injun,"  as  they  called  the  in- 
terpreter, "took  in"  the  story  and  his  understand- 
ing of  it  was  that  Silent  was  trjdng  to  make  fun 
of  the  spirits,  which  was  unpardonable  with  the 
Indians.  And  Silent  soon  found  that  he  was  very 
much  disliked  by  them.  Only  the  fact  that  he  did 
not  talk  much  made  him  bearable  at  all  from  then 
on.  The  leading  Texan  decided  that  the  silent 
one,  with  about  half  sense,  was  not  just  what  he 
had  appeared  before.  He  then  decided  that  they 
would  all  watch  Silent  and  see  if  they  could  tear 
away  that  cloak  of  mystery,  and  find  out  some- 
thing about  him. 

The  next  afternoon  in  came  a  messenger,  rid- 
ing a  panting  horse  and  very  much  excited.  The 
trailers  had  sent  word  that  they  had  found  a  new 
cabin,  but  that  they  had  not  investigated,  as  they 
were  waiting  for  orders.  So,  after  a  hurried  con- 
ference, the  Texans  decided  to  act  with  great  cau- 
tion, as  it  was  the  only  thing  that  looked  encour- 
aging since  the  hunt  began. 

They  dispatched  the  messenger  back  on  a 
fresh  horse  with  instructions  for  the  Indians  to 
crawl  up  on  their  bellies  to  where  they  could  see 
—142— 


SILENT  ON  GUARD 

who  lived  in  the  cabin.  After  watching  the  house 
for  some  time,  the  messenger  came  again  with 
the  news  that  a  young  man  and  a  woman  lived 
there,  but  they  could  not  describe  them,  as  they 
were  only  just  close  enough  to  see  them. 

They  were  all  positive  that  this  was  the 
couple  they  were  after,  as  no  one  else  lived  in 
that  country.  The  Texans  knew  it  well,  as  they 
had  combed  that  section  time  and  again  not  very 
long  ago  for  outlaws.  And  again  they  sent  the 
messenger  with  instructions  to  the  trailers  to 
cntwl  as  before,  after  dark,  and  stand  guard  all 
night;  and  in  the  morning,  before  daylight,  re- 
turn to  camp  and  report  on  the  happenings  of 
the  night.  The  Texans  wanted  all  the  credit  for 
the  capture.  They  did  not  want  the  Indians  around. 
And  another  thing,  they  said,  there  would  be 
"something  doin*,"  and  they  did  not  want  the  In- 
dians' story  of  the  affair,  as  in  those  days  an 
Indian  would  not  lie  or  deceive — death  was  prefer- 
able. 


—148— 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A  CRY  THROUGH  THE  NIGHT. 

HEY  sat  around  the  fire  that  night, 
planning  the  capture,  each  one  giving 
his  individual  view  of  how  it  should  be 
done.  Each  time  Tom's  name  was  men- 
tioned, the  Texans  signified  their  intention  of  do- 
ing away  with  him  the  first  thing  they  did.  The 
leader  said : 

"Suppose  we  are  on  all  four  sides  of  the 
house  and  this  gentleman,  (meaning  Tom) ,  should 
step  out,  with  both  hands  up  high,  in  front  of  the 
man  who  had  the  drop  on  him.  Then,  if  another 
man  should  walk  around  the  comer  of  the  house 
and  catch  sight  of  him,  (meaning  Tom) ,  he  should 
shoot,  and  shoot  to  kill.  He  is  not  supposed  to 
know  or  see  if  the  young  feller  has  his  hands  up. 
Anyway,  they  all  look  alike  after  it  is  all  over." 

And  so  the  conversation  went  on  until  late 
that  night.  Silent  sitting  on  his  feet  with  his  legs 
crossed  under  him.  He  was  not  only  silent  but 
motionless.  His  eyes  were  squinted  almost  shut 
and  his  jawbones  protruding  out  from  clenching 
his  teeth  so  tightly,  as  he  thought  of  the  murder- 
ous intentions  of  the  Texans.  He  began  to  rise, 
straightening  his  feet  and  legs  out  under  him  until 
he  arose  to  his  full  height.  And  with  emotion  that 
shook  his  frame,  he  said : 

"Gentlemen,  I  am  with  you,  and  I  intend  to 

—144— 


A  CRY  THROUGH  THE  NIGHT 

stay  with  you  until  this  thing  is  over.  But  I  have 
this  to  say :  *Don*t  anybody  try  to  harm  this  boy 
>^  hen  we  find  him.'  I  will  go  to  him  and  tell  him, 
and  he  will  surrender  to  me.  We  will  take  him  to 
his  parents,  and  what  their  judgment  is,  will  be 
done;  for  I  want  his  mother  to  speak  to  him. 
^[others  don't  keep  saying  the  same  thing  over 
and  over  again  unless  there  is  something  to  it." 

The  leading  Texan  rolled  over  on  his  side,  fac- 
ing Silent. 

"Well,  that  livens  things  up  a  bit,"  he  said 
ill  a  jeering  way.  "May  I  ask  from  what  authority 
you  speak?" 

Still  standing  erect,  Silent  answered: 

"From  a  right  and  left  hand,  sir !  I  can  shoot 
BO  fast  and  so  straight,  with  both  hands,  that  it 
would  take  a  mathematician  two  hours  to  figger 
out  the  damage  I  can  do  in  one  minute." 

And  Silent  stood  and  no  one  answered.  Those 
black  eyes  traveled  with  flashes  as  they  danced 
from  one  Texan  to  another.  And  no  one  moved, 
as  there  were  only  a  few  moves  that  could  be  made 
tiiat  would  keep  terror  from  entering  the  party 
right  there. 

Lying  there,  the  Texans  began  to  think  that 
maybe  all  the  bad  men  were  not  registered,  and 
maybe  the  worst  man  in  the  world  might  slip  into 
The  Pleasant  Valley  unheralded. 

They  were  all  up  early  the  next  morning,  each 
one  looking  eagerly  for  the  return  of  the  trailers, 
who  had  been  left  to  watch  the  cabin  the  night 
before. 

,-145— 


SILENT 

"Here  they  come,  boys,"  said  the  leader. 

As  the  trailers  rode  up  it  was  evident  by  their 
actions  that  there  were  great  things  to  be  told. 
Something  new,  something  unheard  of  had  hap- 
pened. When  the  trailers  had  all  alighted,  they 
gathered  in  a  bunch  in  front  of  the  leading  Texan 
and  made  motions  that  they  wanted  the  inter- 
preter, who  was  down  in  the  canyon  where  the 
rest  of  the  Indians  were  camped.  One  of  the  oth- 
er Texans  went  hurriedly  bringing  the  interpreter, 
lined  him  up  in  front  of  the  leading  Texan,  and 
motioned  to  the  trailers,  who  had  gathered  a  short 
distance  away. 

One  of  the  trailres  stepped  up  quickly,  and  in 
a  clear,  ringing  voice,  and  with  scarcely  any  mo- 
tions at  all,  explained  that,  all  thi^ough  the  night, 
the  woman  had  lamented  and  cried.  Sometimes 
the  cries  were  screams,  and  sometimes  she  would 
whimper  and  cry  like  a  baby  when  it  cries  itself 
to  sleep;  then  the  cries  would  get  softer  and 
fainter  until  they  would  stop.  In  about  two  hours 
the  same  thing  would  happen  again.  The  other 
trailers  grunted  and  nodded  their  confirmation  of 
the  story  as  it  went  on,  only  when  the  speaker  was 
telling  how  the  woman  whimpered  like  a  child 
crying  itself  to  sleep,  there  seemed  to  be  a  mix- 
ture of  grunts,  and  varying  opinions  as  to  the  ex- 
act sound.  Some  would  say,  "Wuah !"  others  would 
say,  "Eah !"  The  story  finished  with  no  explana- 
tion as  to  the  difference  of  opinion  among  the 
trailers. 

—146— 


A  CRY  THROUGH  THE  NIGHT 

The  three  Texans  looked  at  Silent  and  on» 
said : 

"What  have  you  got  to  say  to  that?" 

Silent  looked  more  determined  and  defiant 
than  before,  but  said  nothing.  The  Texans  could 
see  very  plainly  that  the  odds  of  three  to  one  made 
no  difference  with  him. 

Everything  ready,  there  was  nothing  to  do 
but  advance  cautiously.  The  three  Texans,  with 
Silent,  were  to  surround  the  cabin  and  wait  for 
Tom  to  come  out;  to  leave  the  house  to  get  water 
or  look  after  his  horse;  or  anything  else  that 
might  take  him  away  from  Betty;  or  if  they  saw 
any  other  chance  to  get  them  separated.  They 
knew,  that,  if  they  tried  to  get  them  together,  Tom 
\\'ould  make  a  shield  of  Betty  and  get  away  again. 

So  they  left  their  horses  and  took  their  re- 
spective positions  as  agreed,  two  on  each  side  of 
the  cabin  until  they  were  close  enough.  Then 
they  divided  so  as  to  be  on  the  four  sides  of  the 
house,  Silent  being  directly  in  front  of  the  door. 
There  they  waited  but  Tom  did  not  come  out.  Sil- 
ent had  just  begun  to  think  about  the  girl  com- 
ing out,  when  out  she  popped  with  one  of  those 
large,  narrow,  pointed  bonnets  on.  Silent  had 
just  time  to  raise  his  eyes  when  she  turned  hur- 
riedly around  the  corner  of  the  house  and  went 
into  a  shed  room. 

Silent  gave  the  signal,  as  agreed,  and  step- 
ped auickly  to  the  front  door  with  a  well-cleaned 
Bnd  Dolished  six-shooter  in  each  hand.  The  three 
Texans  rushed  up  around  the  house,  and  the  lead- 
—147— 


SI  LE  N  T 

er  called  out, 

"The  jig  is  up  partner !  Come  on  out  and  face 
the  music!" 

A.nd  then  all  waited  for  Tom  to  come  out. 
But  instead,  a  very  excited  and  high-pitched 
voice  answered.  It  was  the  voice  of  a  man,  but  it 
did  not  sound  just  like  Tom's,  and  it  said: 

"Gentlemen,  be  patient  just  one  minute.  No 
ha*in  will  come,  but  I  wish  to  explain.  As  for 
myself,  I  don't  care;  I  am  guilty  and  should  be 
punished ;  if  you  shoot  or  hang  me  I  will  have  no 
complaint.  But  I  have  a  wife  and  baby  that  are 
just  as  innocent  and  pure  and  sweet  as  the  wild 
flowers  that  grow  on  the  hillsides;  and  before  I 
surrender  alive,  you  must  promise  me  that  you 
will  not  harm  them  and  will  give  them  a  chance  in 
this  world  after  I  am  gone." 

"Well,"  said  the  leader,  "I  must  admit  that 
we  are  *up  a  stump.'  But  the  wish  you  just  made 
will  sure  be  granted,  for  even  we  are  human  be- 
ings the  same  as  yourself.  All  we  want  now  is  a 
better  explanation.  So  come  on  out  and  let  us  look 
at  you." 

Out  stepped  the  excited  man,  with  his  hands 
raised  high  over  his  head,  and  subdued  murmurs 
ran  through  the  crowd.  The  three  Texans  frown- 
ed at  one  another  as  their  trigger-fingers  straight- 
ened out.  They  showed  that  they  were  filled  with 
hate  and  disappointment.  Biit  not  so  with  Silent. 
He  tried  to  look  serious,  but  he  could  not.  He  was 
so  happy  that  it  just  beamed  out  all  over  him.  The 
kind  of  a  man  that  Silent  is  doesn't  make  friends 
—148— 


A  CRY  THRpUGH  THE  NIGHT 

very  often,  or  very  easily.  But,  when  they  do, 
no  power  on  earth  can  separate  them.  If  a  friend 
does  a  wrong  deed,  as  Tom  had  done,  they  don't 
hate  him  for  it,  they  just  hate  the  incident — the 
thing  that  he  has  done — ^and  feel  sorry  for  the 
friend.  But  they  stick  to  him  through  every- 
thing, to  the  end. 

When  the  leader  had  recovered  from  the  dis- 
appointment, he  recognized  the  man  and  under- 
stood. 

"You  are  the  man  who  used  to  make  his  head- 
quarters at  DeviFs  Den." 

The  man  nodded  that  he  was.  Then  the  lead- 
er put  on  a  voice  such  as  a  former  United  States 
marshal  should,  and  asked : 

"What  are  you  a-doin*  up  here?" 

The  man  answered, 

"I  will  tell  you  all,  since  you  know  me.  When 
I  was  operating  out  of  Devil's  Den,  my  wife  lived 
in  Santa  Barbara.  And  when  you  were  reading 
about  the  big  hauls  we  were  making,  my  wife  was 
taking  in  washing  for  a  living;  I  was  unable  to 
support  her.  It  is  true  that  we  did  make  some  big 
hauls,  but  there  was  so  much  cutting  up  to  do,  so 
many  people  had  to  be  in  on  it  before  we  could 
pull  a  job  and  get  away  with  it,  that  there  was  just 
enough  left  for  each  of  us  to  live  on  until  we  pulled 
another.  And  believe  me,  starvation  generally 
drove  us  to  the  next  job. 

"Listen,  friends,  when  the  gang  was  broken 

"Listen,  friends,  when  the  gang  was  broken  up 
and  people  were  flocking  into  the  Devils'  den  to  dig 
—149— 


SILENT 

outlaws,  I  was  in  Santa  Barbara,  taking  from  my 
wife  the  few  nickels  and  dimes  she  had  washed 
for.  I  wouldn't  work,  as  I  thought  I  was  a  bad 
man  and  could  make  a  living  that  way.  But  there 
is  no  use ;  it  can't  be  done.  I  sold  my  horse,  saddle 
and  guns,  and  with  that  and  the  money  we  got  for 
our  little  home,  we  bought  stock  and  seed,  and 
here  we  are,  three  of  the  most  grateful  and  happy 
people  in  all  the  world." 

The  leader  said,  "Amen." 

And  the  others  nodded  their  approval. 

The  leader  then  handed  the  man  a  letter  and 
said: 

"Here  is  a  letter  to  you  from  the  other  sur- 
vivor.   I  picked  it  up  at  the  Den." 

The  man  took  the  letter,  and  as  the  party 
turned  away,  he  picked  up  his  teething  baby  boy, 
who  had  cried  all  the  night  before,  took  his  little 
hand  and  waved  a  farewell  to  the  four  mysterious 
strangers.  Silent,  being  the  only  one  in  that 
mood,  waved  good  bye  to  the  baby  boy  and  his 
father.  As  they  rode  down  the  mountain  to  the 
camp,  Silent  was  thinking: 

"Maybe  men  like  the  one  we  have  just  left 
have  been  murdered  without  a  chance  by  blood- 
thirsty man-hunters." 

And  his  determination  to  protect  Tom  was 
strengthened. 

So  he  began  to  ponder  as  they  rode  on : 

"What's  in  a  name?  Only  a  mark  of  distinc- 
tion. It  is  better  to  be  remembered  by  noble  deeds 
than  by  name.  What  a  good  and  noble  man  that 
—150— 


A  CRY  THROUGH  THE  NIGHT 


was,  ready  and  willing  to  die  for  only  a  promise 
of  protection  for  the  ones  he  loved?  Did  this  man 
have  that  power  of  love  and  self-sacrifice  when  he 
was  an  outlaw  in  the  outlaw's  camp?  Time  has 
answered  the  question  "yes."  He  certainly  did  and 
was  only  awaiting  the  development  of  home  love. 

Silent  knew  that  the  next  move  of  the  Tex- 
ans  would  be  to  get  him  out  of  the  way.  The  first 
thing  they  said  after  they  arrived  at  camp  was : 

"Now,  what  are  you  a-goin'  to  do?" 

Silent  answered  that  he  was  going  to  do 
whatever  they  did.  So  the  leader  ordered  him  to 
get  up  the  pack  mules  and  pack  up.  The  Texans 
lay  on  the  grass,  watching  the  job.  Everything 
ready,  they  ignored  Silent  entirely  and  started  on 
the  way  home. 

Trailing  along  behind,  alone  and  meditating. 
Silent  decided  that  the  Texans  would  make  it  very 
dangerous  and  unpleasant  for  him  from  now  on. 
And,  taking  his  hat  in  his  left  hand  and  with  his 
right  hand  raised,  he  looked  straight  up  into  the 
heavens  above  him  and  made  a  solemn  vow  that 
he  would  be  there  and  demand  a  square  deal  when 
the  boy  was  captured. 


-^161— 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
"DAMNING  AND  DESTROYING." 


mm 


|0M  was  happy  to  know  that  Betty  took 
things  in  a  matter-of-fact  way.  He  de- 
cided that  everything  would  come  out  all 
right,  and  that  he  would  stock  up  the 
place  and  stay  right  there,  as  he  knew  there 
would  be  a  big  price  on  his  head,  dead  or  alive. 
He  also  knew  that  every  person  would  swear  to 
avenge  the  wrong.  Even  the  newcomers,  who  had 
arrived  since  he  left,  would  be  treated  and  intro- 
duced to  that  hideous,  poisonous  reptile,  scandal, 
until  they  would  be  ready  to  shoot  him  on  sight. 

He  knew  that  the  geographical  location  he  had 
selected  would  fool  them  all.  The  only  way  to  find 
him  was  to  track  him  and  he  knew  that  was  im- 
possible. So  the  only  thing  for  him  to  do  was  to 
wait  until  the  heat  of  the  incident  had  cooled  off. 
Then  he  would  venture  out,  get  his  stock,  chick- 
ens and  the  like,  and  go  to  living  right. 

Betty  summed  up  her  own  situation :  Where- 
ever  she  was  she  had  not  the  least  idea,  and  it  did 
not  matter  now,  as  the  burning  thought  in  her 
mind  was: 

What  would  people  say  about  her?  Could  it 
ever  be  stopped?" 

Anything  to  her  would  be  a  welcome  visitor 
beside  the  terrible  things  they  would  say!  And 
she  prayed  that  she  be  spared,  if  necessary  by 

^152— 


"DAMNING  AND  DESTROYING" 

death,  from  that  villainous,  sickening  monster, 
scandal. 

She  realized  that,  by  now,  it  was  possible  that 
everyone  was  talking  about  her.  How  could  she 
face  it?  That  one  thing  troubled  her  day  and 
night;  for  she  knew  that,  from  its  lashing  tongue, 
tJiere  was  no  mercy,  no  pity. 

The  caravan  of  Indians  and  Texans  returned, 
aid  pitched  camp  between  Mr.  Ash*s  and  the  house 
0 :  Aron  Bear.  Silent  rode  up  in  front  of  the  kitch- 
e  1  door.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bear  came  out,  and  without 
getting  off  his  horse.  Silent  related  the  experiences 
of  the  night  before,  except  for  his  declaration  to 
protect  Tom,  when  they  thought  they  had  Betty 
a  ad  Tom  located.  Then  Aron  and  his  wife  walked 
over  to  the  camp  to  look  the  outfit  over,  and 
to  learn  if  they  had  made  plans  for  the  future; 
also  whether  they  were  in  any  way  doubtful  of  the 
success  of  the  hunt. 

The  Texans  assured  Mr.  Bear  that  the  only 
thing  that  stood  between  them  and  success  was 
time,  and  that  another  week,  if  not  less,  would  fin- 
it  h  the  job.  Susan  then  noticed  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ash 
coming  that  way,  and  she  asked  Aron  to  take  her 
home,  which  he  did. 

The  Texans  were  too  proud  to  admit  that  the 
silent  gentleman  "had  them  going"  in  a  way.  They 
could  not  figure  just  what  to  do  with  him  right 
now ;  but  they  certainly  knew  what  they  would  do 
w  ith  him  after  the  capture  was  made. 

The  posmaster  was  changing  his  ways  rap- 
idly. The  Texans  were  not  an  object  of  interest 
—153— 


SILENT 

any  more.  He  talked  more  with  the  preacher  now, 
and  listened  to  his  kindly  advice.  Every  night, 
when  the  neighbors  and  customers  gathered  in  the 
post  office  and  the  exchanges  of  the  day  were 
passed,  the  conversation  would  never  fail  to  center 
on  that  one  thing.  But  the  instant  the  kidnaping 
incident  was  mentioned,  the  preacher  would  al- 
ways get  up,  bid  them  all  good  night  and  go  home. 
Now  that  the  postmaster  had  lost  all  interest  in 
the  scandal,  he  would  go  back  into  the  corner, 
where  the  little  post  office  really  was,  as  soon  as 
the  preacher  had  left.  There  he  would  thumb  over 
the  mail  and  wonder  why  the  people  who  never  got 
any  mail  were  always  asking  for  it,  and  the  folks 
who  got  lots  of  mail  seldom  called  for  it. 

A  big  Missouri  rancher,  who  had  come  out 
west  with  the  postmaster,  called  him  out  of  the 
little  office  and  asked  him  what  the  matter  was 
with  the  preacher,  remarking  that  he  had  noticed 
that,  every  time  the  crowd  began  to  talk  about 
the  kidnaping,  or  anything  else  like  that,  the 
preacher  would  leave. 

"He  is  right,"  said  the  posmaster.  "What  a 
wonderful  world  it  would  be  if  we  would  all  do 
that !  Just  think,  neighbors,  what  it  would  mean, 
what  happiness  it  would  create!  What  harmony 
we  would  have  if  we  could  all  say  good  night  when 
unpleasant  conversations  come  up. 

"There  was  a  woman  by  the  name  of  Preston, 
in  North  Carolina,  who  once  said  that  Mrs.  Dowd 
did  not  get  along  well  with  her  children.  What 
she  meant  was  that  some  of  the  children  were  sick 


"DAMNING  AND  DESTROYING" 

nearly  all  the  time.  But  by  the  time  this  story 
reached  Mrs.  Dowd,  it  sounded  different.  Mrs. 
Dowd  thought  she  was  accused  of  quarreling  with 
her  children,  and  she  made  a  remark  about  Mrs. 
Preston.  Soon  the  two  were  thinking  of  all  the 
mean  things  they  could  to  say  of  each  other.  And 
from  that  remark  started  the  Preston-Dowd  feud, 
in  which,  up  to  date,  over  one  hundred  people  have 
lost  their  lives. 

"Let  me  tell  you,  fellers,  I  am  with  the 
preacher,  heart,  soul  and  body;  and  from  now  on, 
folks,  when  you  are  thinking  and  talking  evil 
about  somebody,  take  it  outside  and  do  it  all  to 
yourself.  We  will  all  be  better  off  without  it. 
Tlie  preacher  is  sure  a  good  man,  fellers.  He 
don't  blame  anybody  for  anything  they  do.  The 
worst  thing  I  ever  heard  him  say  about  anyone 
was  that  some  people  do  not  go  very  deeply  into 
this  worldly  life.  They  live  very  shallow,  ready 
to  damn  nnd  destroy  or  praise  and  reward,  with- 
out a  serious  thought.  Let  Us  all  think  more 
about  the  preacher  and  what  he  says." 

Back  on  the  hill-top,  Tom  was  leaving  one 
morning  on  one  of  his  regular  trips.  His  feet 
were  all  tied  up  in  barley  sacks  to  avoid  making 
tracks.  He  would  go  over  on  the  edge  of  the  hill 
leading  down  into  the  valley  and  watch,  to  see  if 
h(^  could  discover  how  much  activity  there  was  in 
the  valley  and  in  that  way,  learn  how  many  peo- 
ple were  looking  for  him.  He  could  distinguish 
endless  numbers,  and  as  he  knew  nothing  of  the 
Indians,  he  had  decided  that  the  entire  country, 
—155— 


SILENT 

every  settler,  and  even  the  outlaws  at  Devils*  Den, 
were  after  him.  He  knew  that  the  odds  were  ter- 
rible, but  he  assured  himself  that  they  would  not 
find  him,  but  would  get  tired  after  awhile  and  all 
go  back  home  and  forget. 

Betty  asked  him  that  morning  to  leave  the 
rifle  with  her.  She  wanted  to  shoot  chicken 
hawks,  so  that,  when  they  got  their  chickens, 
there  would  be  no  hawks  to  get  them.  She  said 
she  had  seen  hawks  flying  at  a  distance. 

"And  it  will  be  distance,"  said  Tom,  pointing 
up  into  a  tree.  "That  little  mother  up  there  is  not 
going  to  let  a  hawk  get  near  those  little  mocking 
bird  babies  of  hers.    She  would  die  first." 

Just  then  they  saw  a  large  hawk  soaring  in 
the  distance,  his  ravenous  eyes  searching  the  tree- 
tops  for  unprotected  young  ones  of  any  kind. 
When  the  little  mother  spied  the  hooked  bill  of 
the  hawk,  with  his  claws  hanging  down,  ready  to 
grasp  anything  he  saw,  she  gave  a  little  warn- 
ing sound  and  the  young  birds  huddled  down  in 
the  bottom  of  the  nest,  very  quiet.  Then  the 
mother  started  to  meet  the  intruder,  flying  very 
high.  When  she  was  directly  over  the  hawk,  the 
latter  saw  her  and  turned  to  go  the  other  way. 
But  it  was  too  late;  the  little  mother  folded  her 
wings  and  darted  like  an  arrow,  right  down  on 
top  of  the  intruder,  and  out  came  a  feather  from 
the  hawk's  head.  Again  she  darted  and  again 
came  a  feather  from  the  retreating  hawk. 

Betty  and  Tom  watched  the  uneven  battle  in 
which  the  hawk  had  no  chance  at  the  little  bird, 
— 156— 


"DAMNING  AND  DESTROYING" 

which  remained  above  his  head  all  the  time.  When 
the  bird  and  the  hawk  were  out  of  sight,  Betty 
remarked  that  the  bird  was  right  and  that  right 
always  won. 

Tom  was  thinking  about  what  Betty  had  just 
said  and  wondering  if  right  would  always  win, 
when  the  little  mother  came  back.  A  chirp  brought 
the  little  birds*  heads  up,  mouths  open,  ready  to 
receive  the  worm  that  the  mother  had  gathered 
on  her  way  back.    And  Tom  thought : 

"Isn't  it  funny  ?  The  mother  never  for  an  in- 
stant forgets  her  young." 

Then,  as  he  thought  of  the  power  of  a  moth- 
er's love,  he  said : 

"I'll  bet  she  located  that  worm  when  she  was 
fighting  that  hawk." 

At  that  instant  the  thought  was  transmitted 
to  him  some  way  that  his  own  mother,  in  a  way, 
was  like  that  bird ;  that  she  was  with  him,  as  ever. 
And  he  seemed  to  know  that  she  believed  in  him 
and  would  always  be  with  him.  At  the  happy 
thought  he  chuckled  with  delight,  right  out  loud. 
Betty  looked  at  him  and  in  astonishment  discov- 
ered that  tears  were  streaming  from  his  eyes. 
Was  he  crying  or  laughing?  He  would  not  say, 
but  excused  himself  by  saying  that  he  must  be 
going  to  his  lookout  station  to  see  what  was  go- 
ing on  in  the  valley. 


—157— 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A  HIGH  RESOLVE. 

[HE  conversations  around  the  post  office 
changed  like  magic.  Everybody  talked 
about  good  things,  which  brought  with 
it  the  fruit,  which  is  "thought."  That 
was  good,  and  soon  everybody  thought  much  more 
of  one  another's  company.  The  church  attendance 
became  one  hundred  per  cent.  And  the  preacher 
visited  and  talked  with  the  people  at  the  store  un- 
til they  were  all  ready  to  say  good  night.  He 
would  thank  them  for  attending  his  church  and 
say  it  made  no  difference  about  the  denomination. 
If  they  would  all  think  about  good  and  heavenly 
things,  they  would  soon  be  all  the  same,  anyway. 

And  the  postmaster  said  to  the  preacher  one 
day: 

"Wasn't  that  the  easiest  thing  to  do  ?  People 
are  naturally  good  Uke  that.  All  they  need  is  one 
good  man,  whom  they  like  and  have  confidence  in, 
to  guide  them  in  the  right  way.  They  sure  learn 
fast;  so  did  I." 

And  he  thought  of  the  change  in  his  own  self. 

It  was  in  the  spring  when  Betty  was  myster- 
iously taken  from  her  home,  and  now  it  was  fall — 
almost  seven  months.  The  same  monotonous  hap- 
penings of  the  day  before  were  happening  every 
day.  She  was  positive  that,  when  she  did  not  re- 
turn after  the  third  day,  she  would  be  blamed. 
—158— 


w 


A  HIGH  RESOLVE 


They  would  condemn  her  from  that  day.  They 
would  say  she  could  have  kept  the  boy  from  pick- 
ing her  up,  if  she  had  wanted  to,  and  that  she  could 
have  gotten  away  the  next  day  and  walked  home. 
Her  own  people  would  be  saying  these  same  things 
about  her — she  knew  them  only  too  well. 

As  she  sat  there  in  front  of  the  smoky  chim- 
ney, meditating,  with  palms  on  her  cheeks  and 
elbows  on  her  knees,  Tom  came  from  his  lookout 
station  and  quietly  entered  the  cabin.  Betty  jump- 
ed and  said,  in  a  voice  not  altogether  kind: 

*'Tom,  you  frighten  me,  slipping  up  that  way 
with  those  old  sacks  on  your  feet!  And,  Tom,  I 
am  not  like  I  used  to  be.  I  am  getting  so  that  I  get 
all  fussed  up  about  little  things.  Besides  that,  I 
don't  feel  well  at  times.  You  know  that  it  snows 
up  in  these  mountains,  and  it  is  getting  along  to- 
ward that  time  of  the  year,  I  think,  for  the  squir- 
rels ar^  so  busy,  packing  their  little  mouths  full  of 
nuts  and  taking  them  up  and  putting  them  in  a 
hole  in  that  big  tree.  All  that  reminds  me  so 
much,  Tom,  of  what  will  happen  up  here  if  we  get 
Ciiught  in  the  snow,  no  doctors,  no  grannies,  no 
medicine,  nothing." 

She  turned  toward  him  appealingly  and  asked 
him  to  bring  her  some  slippery-elm  bark,  so  that 
she  could  dry  it  and  have  it  ready.  Tom  said  he 
would  go  to  the  creek  bottom  the  first  thing  in 
the  morning  and  get  the  bark.  And  then,  for  the 
first  time,  Tom  began  a  review  of  the  things  that 
he  had  done ;  and  there  came  to  him  a  strict  real- 
ization of  what  he  was  doing  now.    He  looked  at 


SILENT 

Betty  and  he  could  notice  that  she  did  look  bad  and 
worn.  He  wondered  what  there  was  that  he  could 
do;  and  he  asked  her  what  else  she  needed  be- 
sides the  bark. 

"Oh,  nothing,"  said  Betty. 

But  it  did  not  sound  to  Tom  as  if  she  meant 
nothing.  There  was  some  meaning  back  of  that 
"nothing,"  and  he  must  find  out  what  it  was. 

Next  morning  he  came  back  with  the  bark, 
and  as  usual,  slipped  up  on  his  sacked  feet,  to  find 
Betty  crying. 

"Now,  Betty,  tell  me,"  he  said. 

He  knew  now  what  it  was,  but  he  wanted  her 
to  tell  him.  He  wanted  more  encouragement,  and 
he  wanted  it  from  her.  He  put  the  bark  away  and 
started  for  his  lookout  station.  There  he  could  see 
the  hunters,  riding  back  and  forth.  He  knew  they 
were  after  him  with  orders  to  shoot  on  sight ;  and 
back  he  trudged  to  the  lonely  cabin. 

The  two  families  were  getting  discouraged 
and  wanted  to  give  up  the  hunt.  But  the  Texans 
kept  a  messenger  on  the  way  all  the  time,  giving 
glowing  reports  of  fresh  evidence ;  of  new  and  en- 
couraging things  they  were  finding,  in  order  to 
keep  things  bolstered  up  so  that  they  could  con- 
tinue the  hunt.  For  they  certainly  wanted  to  find 
Tom. 

Up  early  the  next  morning,  Tom  started  to  get 
breakfast.  Betty  immediately  informed  him  that 
he  was  out  of  place ;  and  that  it  made  no  difference 
how  they  happened  to  be  there,  it  was  her  place 
to  get  the  meals,  and  she  was  going  to  do  it.    Af- 

—160— 


A  HIGH  RESOLVE 

t(»r  breakfast,  Tom  left  for  his  lookout  post,  and 
there  he  saw  the  same  hurrying  in  and  out.  Only 
today  there  seemed  to  be  more  men  and  they  rode 
faster;  he  knew  that  the  excitement  must  be 
greater,  and  he  knew  what  that  meant — less 
chance  for  him. 

The  time  was  coming  for  the  "show  down," 
and  he  knew  it.  For  he  could  no  longer  stand  the 
sufferings  of  the  one  he  loved  so  dearly.  And  how 
h«i  did  blame  himself  for  the  things  that  he  had 
done,  and  for  some  he  had  not  done!  He  was  riot 
afraid  to  take  the  chances,  but  he  was  fearful  of 
one  thing;  that  was  of  being  killed  by  strangers, 
without  the  slightest  chance  to  explain  to  his 
mother  or  father.  He  did  want  to  tell  them  so 
badly  that  his  father's  intention  to  institute  a 
crusade  of  extermination  against  the  Ash  family, 
on  that  fatal  morning,  had  made  him  act  as  he  had 
the  night  before.  If  he  could  just  tell  them  that, 
he  did  not  care  for  the  rest. 

He  came  back  to  the  cabin  that  night. 
Cliarley  was  standing  in  front  of  the  door,  wait- 
ing for  him,  and  after  caressing  and  talking  horse 
talk  awhile  to  him,  Tom  went  into  the  shack. 
B(5tty  looked  more  pitiful  than  ever  before;  and 
as  he  looked  at  her,  he  said  to  himself: 

"I  will  do  it.  I  don't  care  what  the  cost  is, 
or  how  big  the  odds  are,  I  am  going  to  do  it." 

As  he  had  never  done  anything  much  without 

the  assistance  of  Charley,  he  asked  Betty  how  the 

horse  had  been  acting  lately.     She  said  that  he 

seomed  to  be  full  of  play,  and  that  she  believed  he 

—161— 


SILENT 

would  get  too  fat  on  that  good  grass  were  it  not 
that  he  played  so  hard  just  to  keep  in  good  con- 
dition. 

"And  when  I  am  out  in  the  woods  walking," 
she  said,  "he  will  come  up  to  me  and  push  me  with 
his  nose,  and  then  run  and  kick  up  his  heels,  as 
much  as  to  say,  *Catch  me  if  you  can.'  He  is  just 
the  dear  old  darling  horse  that  he  has  been  since 
we  have  been  up  here." 

Tom  felt  his  mind  fill  with  pity  for  Betty.  He 
w6uld  give  everything  now  to  restore  her  to  her 
former  place,  unharmed.  His  life  or  the  life  of  his 
horse  was  nothing  compared  to  her  safety.  Out 
he  went  again  to  the  lookout  station,  and  there 
he  could  see  the  man-hunters  coming  and  going  as 
before, 

Tom  did  not  tell  Betty  of  his  intentions,  as 
he  knew  that  she  realized  the  dangers  just  as  well 
as  he  did ;  and  that  was  enough.  He  was  not  going 
to  frighten  her  with  his  plans;  but  he  steadily 
made  preparations  for  the  dash — to  what?  He 
could  not  tell,  but  he  had  fully  decided  to  try. 

He  went  out  and  called  Charley,  who  came 
on  the  run.  After  the  usual  greetings  between 
them,  Tom  began  to  comb  the  horse's  mane  and 
tail  out  until  he  had  them  clean  and  beautiful; 
each  hair  was  standing  out  by  itself.  Then  he  led 
the  horse  to  the  saddle  and  put  on  the  shoes  he 
had  taken  off  when  they  arrived  at  the  shack. 

Charley  began  to  realize  that  something  was 
going  to  happen,  and  whatever  it  was,  it  was  ser- 
ious, for  in  all  his  life  he  had  never  seen  Tom  act 
—162— 


A  HIGH  RESOLVE 

SO  earnestly.  He  knew  that  more  was  going  to 
be  expected  of  him  than  ever  before;  and  he 
thanked  his  Creator  for  in  all  his  life  he  had 
never  felt  so  strong  and  able  as  now.  So,  what- 
ever the  demand  on  his  body  was  to  be,  he  knew 
it  was  going  to  be  fulfilled. 

Tom  wanted  Charley  to  wear  his  shoes  a  few 
days  so  that  he  would  be  accustomed  to  them 
v^hen  the  trial  came.  Three  more  days  at  the 
lookout  station  convinced  Tom  that  they  did  not 
intend  to  abandon  the  search.  He  asked  about 
Charley  again,  and  Betty  told  him  that  the  horse 
had  a  new  play  now,  since  the  shoes  were  on 
agam;  that  he  would  take  a  few  quick  jumps, 
squat  like  a  cat,  then  jump  just  as  high  as  he 
could  and  twist  himself  until  his  bones  cracked. 

"And,"  she  continued,  "he  will  be  running, 
and,  as  if  something  unforeseen  had  appeared  in 
front  of  him,  he  will  leap  high  in  the  air." 
And  again  she  asked  the  same  question : 
"Tom,  why  did  you  put  the  shoes  back  on 
Charley?    Please  tell  me.    I  must  know." 

Tom  could  keep  his  secret  no  longer;  so  he 
told  Betty  of  his  intention  of  going  home.  He  said 
that,  if  they  did  not  kill  him  outright,  he  would 
live  in  a  dying  condition  to  tell  his  parents  what 
he  wanted  to,  and,  at  the  same  time,  clear  away 
the  cloud  that  was  hanging  over  her.  He  said 
he  believed  that  he  could  slip  right  home,  and,  at 
tie  worst,  would  get  to  tell  his  tale.  He  told  her 
that  Silent  had  explained  to  him  how  hard  it  was 
—163— 


SILENT 

to  kill  a  man  outright ;  neariy  always  a  man  lived 
to  talk  after  he  had  been  mortally  wounded." 

Betty  said,  "No,  there  is  no  such  thing  go- 
ing to  be  done." 

She  suggested  that  they  go  the  other  way, 
toward  the  coast,  until  they  found  settlements, 
Tom  explained  to  her  that  that  would  not  do. 

"By  this  time,"  he  said,  "they  have  notified 
all  the  settlements  to  be  on  the  lookout  for  us. 
And  we  might  both  be  hung,  as  mob  law  is  not 
particular  what  it  does,  and  that  is  the  only  kind 
of  law  we  have  here." 

Betty  then  said  that  she  would  go  home  and 
try  to  fix  things  for  them  both. 

But  Tom  said,  "No !  I  would  rather  suffer  a 
hundred  deaths  than  to  be  humiliated  like  that. 
Never  will  I  take  refuge  behind  a  woman.  Even 
my  mother  would  not  forgive  that." 

What  was  he  going  to  do?  He  knew  that  it 
would  almost  kill  Betty  to  see  him  start,  and  he 
knew  that  it  would  be  just  as  bad  for  him  to  leave 
her  there  alone.  So  he  decided  on  a  new  plan. 
He  got  up  quietly  the  next  morning,  long  before 
daylight,  and  slipped  out,  leaving  Betty  asleep. 
He  saddled  and  bridled  Charley,  gave  him  a  big 
long,  affectionate  hug,  and  whispered  and  whis- 
pered to  him,  Charley  listening  as  if  he  under- 
stood. Then  quietly  slipping  back  into  the  shack, 
Tom  kissed  Betty  on  the  top  of  her  head  for  fear 
of  waking  her,  kissed  the  bed  clothes  and  the 
clothes  she  wore,  picked  up  her  little  slippers  and 
hugged  them  tightly  to  his  breast;  and  with  a 
—164— 


A  HIGH  RESOLVE 

fond,  appealing  look  at  Betty,  departed,  waving 
good  bye  to  Charley  as  he  passed.  Poor  Charley ! 
His  feelings  were  hurt.  He,  the  one  who  would 
be  so  proud  to  sacrifice  his  life  for  the  protection 
of  his  master,  left  behind  with  reins  tied  to  a 
tree! 

He  chewed  his  bit  and  he  stamped  the  ground 
and  gnawed  the  bark  off  the  tree.  Tom  had  taken 
the  big,  heavy  belt  of  cartridges  that  the  horse 
used  to  carry  on  the  saddle;  and  that  convinced 
Charley  that  Tom  was  not  coming  back.  But 
why?  the  horse  reasoned.  And,  as  he  was  think- 
ing, he  remembered  the  little  woman  who  was 
asleep  in  the  shack.  He  knew,  as  he  had  always 
known  before,  that  there  was  another  and  greater 
task  for  him.  And  he  wished  for  it  to  come 
quickly,  as  never  before  had  he  been  so  full  of 
strength  to  give  and  ambition  to  do. 

Then  he  thought ; 

"She  will  get  up  this  morning  and  see  Charley 
tied  in  front  with  the  saddle  and  bridle  on.  And 
she  will  think  that  I  am  at  the  lookout  station, 
but  will  return  in  the  afternoon  to  make  my  start 
on  the  horse.  It  will  spare  her  for  some  time, 
and  whatever  the  news  is,  she  will  get  it  all  at 
once,  and  will  not  be  punished  with  fear  and  sus- 
pense for  so  lohg." 

"When  she  gets  on  Charley  she  must  and  will 
know  how  to  prepare,  for  he  alone  knows  the 
short-cut  home.  Nothing  will  be  able  to  catch  him 
when  she  lets  him  go.  I  have  done  all  I  can  for 
her." 

—165— 


SILENT 

He  was  walking  down  the  hill,  taking  the 
short-cut  home ;  and  was  getting  down  toward  the 
flat  of  the  valley,  where  he  must  soon  come  out 
in  the  open,  when  he  noticed  a  snake  crossing  his 
path.  As  he  was  approaching  too  near,  the  snake 
coiled  and  made  ready  to  give  battle.  Down  came 
the  rifle  from  his  shoulder  with  the  thought,  "the 
first  practice  today."  As  he  raised  the  rifle  the 
snake  looked  him  right  in  the  eye,  without  fear. 
As  his  fingers  gently  touched  the  trigger,  he 
thought: 

"Poor  thing!  Ready  to  fight  and  no  chance 
to  win!  The  odds  are  all  against  you,  and  your 
chances  are  none." 

As  he  was  thus  thinking,  his  mind  reverted 
to  himself;  he  compared  his  chance  with  that  of 
the  snake.  And  as  the  snake,  deciding  that  the 
intruder  did  not  want  to  fight,  went  crawling  on 
his  way,  Tom  said, 

"Goodby,  partner,  we  are  two  of  a  kind.  Come 
down  some  time  and  see  me,  crawl  over  the  place 
where  they  put  me." 

And  on  Tom  went  to  the  valley  below. 


—166— 


CHAPTER  XVL 

THE  HOME-COMING. 

HE  Texans  must  find  Tom  in  order  to 
keep  up  the  foolish  war  between  Aron 
and  Dave,  and  in  that  way,  retain  their 
good  home.  Silent  had  heard  the  Tex- 
ans trying  to  keep  up  the  interest  of  the  Indians 
by  telling  them  that  the  boy  had  said  that  he  in- 
tended to  kill  every  Indian  who  was  hunting  for 
him.  They  instructed  the  Indians  to  shoot  as 
soon  as  they  laid  eyes  on  him.  On  that  account 
Silent  had  changed  his  position.  Instead  of  trail- 
ing behind,  he  was  riding  ahead  with  the  vow  up- 
on his  lips  to  see  Tom  first,  and  to  protect  him 
after  he  saw  him. 

The  Texans  were  getting  desperate,  as  fail- 
are  to  find  Tom  would  lose  them  their  homes  in 
that  beautiful,  pleasant  valley  they  loved  so 
much.  But  it  was  agreed  among  them  that,  if 
they  lost  out  on  this  deal,  they  would  buy  a  ranch 
there  and  settle  down. 

It  was  afternoon  and  they  were  moving 
camp.  They  had  made  the  entire  circle  around 
the  country  back  to  where  they  had  started.  Silent 
was  riding  ahead,  determined  and  scanning  ev- 
erything in  sight,  his  eyes  penetrating  the  dis- 
tance, with  almost  the  power  of  a  telescope,  when 
like  a  flash,  he  flopped  on  his  horse's  side  with  his 
Kuns  drawn  and  facing  the  Texans  behind  him. 
—167— 


SILENT 

"Fellows,"  he  said,  "there  is  that  boy.  If 
you  want  to  be  square,  I  will  disarm  him  and  you 
can  march  the  two  of  us  into  camp." 

The  Texans  agreed,  as  they  had  not  seen  Tom 
yet.  Silent's  horse  marched  directly  to  the  boy, 
who  was  crouched  behind  some  bushes,  ready  to 
do  battle  with  whatever  came.  He  saw  the  horse 
coming  his  way,  apparently  riderless,  until  at 
last  when  he  discovered  the  rider  in  that  famil- 
iar position,  he  knew  it  was  Silent.  Tom  laid  his 
gun  down  and  waited;  and  there  he  met  that 
friend  of  friends.  He  did  not  cry;  he  was  too 
much  of  a  man  now;  but  he  had  no  control  over 
two  little  streams  that  trickled  down  over  his 
cheeks. 

As  the  Texans  rode  along  some  distance  be- 
hind, the  leader  said : 

"Say,  boys,  what  do  you  think  of  that  flip- 
flop?  Wasn't  it  a  peach?  Got  the  boy  skinned! 
Had  them  *gats*  right  on  us  before  we  knew  what 
was  a-goin*  on!" 

Then  with  a  revengeful  laugh,  he  added : 

"Three  hard  nuts  come  all  the  way  from 
Texas,  break  up  the  worst  gang  of  outlaws  that 
ever  got  together,  and  then  let  two  *nesters*  show 
us  somethin'  new  in  fancy  fightinM  Just  about 
*gets'  me!  Wish  Td  seen  him  first!  It  would 
'a-ben  a  different  story." 

And  the  much  dissatisfied  leader  mumbled  his 
disgust  as  they  followed  slowly  behind. 

Silent  hurriedly  explained  to  Tom  that  he 
was  to  disarm,  and  that  the  two  would  be  escorted 
—168— 


THE  HOME-COMING 

in  by  the  Texans.  He  took  Tom's  gun  and  laid 
it  on  the  ground,  put  Tom  on  the  horse  and 
mounted  behind  him,  and  then  awaited  the  com- 
ing of  the  Texans.  When  they  arrived  he  told 
the  leader  to  get  Tom's  gun,  and  asked  them  to 
keep  a  respectable  distance  behind  them.  Then  he 
signaled  that  they  were  ready  to  proceed.  Tom 
\ms  in  the  lead  and  going  home.  What  a  home- 
coming it  was! 

Everything  was  going  fine,  the  Texans 
talking  more  and  louder  and  riding  closer  and 
closer,  until  Silent  raised  his  hand  as  if  giving 
warning. 

The  leader  said  abruptly:  "What  d'ye  want?" 

Silent  answered  that  he  had  carried  out  his 
end  of  the  agreement,  fair  and  square,  and  asked 
if  they  would  please  not  crowd  him  so,  as  the  boy 
v/as  getting  nervous.  At  the  same  time  Silent 
urged  his  horse  on  faster,  and  when  they  had 
gained  a  little  headway,  he  remarked  to  Tom  that 
he  lad  two  six-shooters  and  a  Winchester  rifle, 
and  he  could  not  use  them  all  at  once.  But,  in 
case  of  an  accident,  he  sure  would  like  to  see  his 
guni  well  manned.  Tom  knew  what  Silent  meant 
and  iaid: 

*I  understand." 

He  added  that,  whatever  happened,  Betty  was 
vvell  protected,  as  he  had  left  Charley,  tied  to  a 
ti'ee  in  front  of  their  shack,  saddled  and  bridled 
and  ready  to  go. 

"Why  didn't  you  say  so  before?"  asked  Sil- 
eat.  "We  will  plan  to  get  word  to  her  and  get  her 
—169— 


SILENT 

home  as  soon  as  possible.  This  small  Texan  is 
square  and  game  and  you  can  trust  him.  Let's 
ask  him  if  he  will  go  after  her." 

Silent  raised  his  hand  again  and,  address- 
ing the  small  one,  made  the  request.  Yes,  they 
were  all  willing;  the  small  one  said  that  he  had 
the  best  horse  and  was  ready  to  go  right  now. 
As  Tom  got  down  on  the  ground,  Silent  was  look- 
ing three  ways  at  the  same  time.  Tom  gave  the 
small  one  the  complete  geography  of  the  hills,  and 
with  pencil  and  paper,  directed  him  to  where  Betty 
and  the  horse  were.  He  told  the  man  to  tell  Betty 
that  he  (Tom),  was  all  right  and  on  his  way 
home;  and  to  tell  her  to  tie  herself  on  the  horse 
and  turn  Charley  loose — the  horse  knew  the  short- 
cut and  would  come  home. 

The  Texan  left  on  the  run,  as  he  knew  that 
he  must  ride  hard  to  give  Betty  time  to  get  home 
before  night.  The  tension  was  greatly  relieved 
now,  as  Tom  and  Silent  both  knew  there  was  no 
danger  in  even  numbers. 

On  to  the  house  the  party  went,  Tom  was  liv- 
ing for  just  one  thing,  and  that  was  to  make  a 
complete  confession  to  his  mother  and  father. 

Silent  went  directly  to  Mr.  Bear  for  instruc- 
tions. 

Aron  said  that  he  never  wanted  to  lay  eyes 
upon  his  boy  again,  and  he  refused  to  let  Mrs. 
Bear  see  him  either.  He  told  Silent  to  get  Mr, 
Ash  and  they  would  decide  together  what  to  do. 
Silent  told  Tom  that  his  duty,  as  man  to  man,  had 
—170— 


THE  HOME-COMING 


been  fulfilled,  and  that  he  had  promised  Tom's 
j'ather  to  follow  his  orders. 

"As  far  as  you  are  concerned,  Tom,"  he  said, 
*'I  am  still  with  you  until  your  requests  conflict 
with  the  orders  of  your  father." 

And  Tom  could  see  that  Silent  was  right,  ac- 
(x)rding  to  the  laws  of  seniority. 

Tom  saw  Mr.  Ash  coming,  but  he  knew  that 
it  would  be  useless  to  confess  to  him.  His  only 
desire  then  was  that  Betty  get  there  safe  and 
^vell.  She  would  be  able  to  make  the  confession 
lor  him.  Dave  Ash  arrived  in  a  fit  of  rage;  and 
when  Silent  explained  everything  that  had  hap- 
j)ened,  and  that  the  Texan  had  gone  after  the  girl, 
Dave  Ash  exclaimed: 

"You're  all  a  set  of  fools!  None  of  you  has 
l,^ot  any  sense!  That  boy  just  wanted  to  get  rid 
of  you  one  at  a  time  'til  he'd  have  a  chance  to  get 
away  again.  The  idea  of  sending  for  Betty !  No  I 
If  she's  not  dead,  he's  sold  her  to  some  of  them 
ininers  for  gold,  or  hired  her  out  to  'em.  And, 
]ike  as  not,  he  was  on  his  way  back  for  another 
one  to  sell." 

And  with  that  Dave  walked  up  and  gave  Tom 
a  kick. 

Tom  said  nothing.  No  one  said  anything, 
but  Silent's  hands  began  working  like  someone 
1  eeling  or  groping  for  something  in  the  dark.  That 
was  too  much !  He  could  not  stand  it !  He  walked 
MP  in  front  of  Mr.  Ash,  and  so  close  that  their 
])odies  were  touching  each  other. 

"Mr.  Ash,  don't  do  that  any  more,"  he  said. 
—171— 


SILENT 

"Hit  me  if  you  want  to,  but  don't  hit  that  boy. 
He  is  a  prisoner,  and  will  probably  be  hung;  but 
it  will  be  done  right." 

Now  right  here  is  an  example  of  thinking. 
The  worst  thoughts  possible  were  entertained  and 
drove  Dave  insane  for  the  moment,  almost  caus- 
ing him  to  get  the  top  of  his  head  blown  off  by 
SUent. 

It  was  noticeable  that  Dave's  action  did  not 
"set"  well  with  the  Indians,  who  immediately 
changed  their  attitude  toward  Silent.  And  a  few 
passing  ranchers,  who  had  stopped  to  see  the 
lynching,  openly  remarked  that  such  stuff  "did 
not  go"  at  all,  which  created  a  very  unpleasant 
situation. 

Then  the  leading  Texan  stepped  in  and  said 
that  he  had  been  instructed  by  Mr.  Ash  and  Mr. 
Bear  to  take  charge  of  the  case.  He  said  that  he 
would  see  fair  play,  and  would  also  see  that  the 
prisoner  did  not  escape.  And  forthwith  he  pro- 
ceeded to  bind,  gag  and  blindfold  the  prisoner. 

Before  the  gag  was  placed  in  his  mouth,  Tom 
requested  that  he  be  allowed  to  whisper  a  few 
words  to  Silent.  The  Talking  Indian  heard  the  re- 
quest and  said,  very  loudly,  "Yes." 

All  the  Indians  repeated,  "Yes." 

The  leading  Texan  looked  around,  and  when 
he  saw  the  determined  look  on  those  bronze  faces, 
he  said  "yes,"  also. 

The  Indian  brought  Silent  from  the  kitchen 
where  he  had  gone  to  comfort  Tom's  mother,  and 
as  Silent  stepped  up  to  Tom,  everything  was  still. 
—172— 


THE  HOME-COMING 

There  was  no  sound  except  the  one  coming  from 
the  kitchen,  where  Mrs.  Bear  was  sobbing  and 
saying,  as  if  talking  to  her  baby: 

"No,  no!  My  boy  didn't  do  it!  He  couldn't 
do  it!  He  was  such  a  good  boy!  He  couldn't  do 
anything  wrong!    No,  no,  no,  no!" 

Silent  asked  Tom  what  the  request  was,  at 
the  same  time  cautioning  him  that  it  must  not 
conflict  with  his  father's  orders.  Tom  said  he  un- 
derstood, and  it  was  no  secret.  They  could  get 
his  father's  permission  before  going.  All  he 
wanted  was  the  minister.  Silent  answered  that 
110  man  would  refuse  a  request  like  that,  his  voice 
thowing  that  it  would  do  no  good  for  anyone  to 
lefuse.  Then  Silent  asked  fair  play  until  he  re- 
turned with  the  preacher.  And  in  a  short  time 
there  was  only  a  fog  of  dust  to  show  that  Silent 
^ms  riding  for  life. 

Little  groups  gathered  around  the  house,  and 
it  looked  very  bad  at  times.  The  Indians,  after 
seeing  Silent's  attitude  of  fair  play  and  square 
dealing,  changed  their  minds  completely  about 
him.  They  were  with  him  and  they  agreed  with 
one  another  that  there  would  be  nothing  done 
with  the  boy  until  the  "No  Talk  Man"  came  back. 

Silent  knew  that  he  must  hurry  for  several 
reasons.  One  was  that  the  sentiment  might 
( hange  and  they  would  decide  not  to  wait  for  him. 
Another  was  that  he  wanted  to  get  back  before 
]3etty,  as  he  thought  the  situation  would  be  worse 
when  she  arrived.  He  knew  that,  if  there  hap- 
pened to  be  a  mix-up  there  were  at  least  two  men 
—173— 


SILENT 

there  who  would  shoot  Tom,  blindfolded  as  he 
was.  He  also  knew  that  he  had  to  ride  fast  to 
beat  Charley,  for  he  was  one  of  the  two  who  knew 
Charley.  Besides,  he  knew  that  the  little  Texan 
would  get  to  where  Betty  was  at  about  the  time 
he  had  started  for  the  preacher ;  and  he  knew  that, 
to  win  the  race,  he  must  ride  fast  and  manage  to 
save  his  horse  for  the  return. 

As  he  rode  on  he  thought : 

"Poor  girl!  If  she  gives  that  horse  the  rein 
and  lets  him  go,  she  will  not  be  able  to  ride  him. 
Or,  if  she  does  ride  him,  it  will  take  her  breath 
away;  for  he  will  jump  canyons  that  will  scare 
her  to  death." 

As  he  rode  on,  he  thought  of  schemes  for 
different  ways  of  saving  her.  At  the  same  mo- 
ment Tom  was  thinking  of  the  same  thing.  Two 
minds,  with  the  power  of  unselfish  love  and  truth, 
were  concentrated  on  the  same  thing. 


—174— 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

SHE  WHISPERED  IN  HIS  EAR  AND  HE  UN- 
DERSTOOD, 

IHE  small  Texan  arrived  at  the  shack  in 
good  time.  Betty  was  outside  talking  to 
Charley.    Alighting  and  taking  off  his 

hat,  he  walked  up  to  her  and  said: 

''Don't  look  so  sad,  Miss  Betty.  We  captured 
Tom  and  he  is  now  on  his  way  to  your  house,  dis- 
armed  and  well  guarded." 

Betty  was  in  the  saddle  by  the  time  these 
v/ords  were  spoken. 

"Don't  be  in  a  hurry,"  said  the  Texan,  as 
he  took  off  his  cartridge  belt  and  told  Betty  to 
buckle  it  tightly  around  her. 

Then  he  took  the  saddle  strings  and  tied 
them  in  the  belt  from  every  angle.  The  cinch 
was  tight;  and  he  hobbled  the  stirrups,  as  he 
saw  that  Tom  had  shortened  them.  He  asked 
Betty  if  she  was  ready  to  go.  She  took  off  her 
little  poke  bonnet,  and  turning  it  backwards,  blind- 
folding herself,  tied  it  on  that  way.  And  then  she 
told  the  Texan  to  take  off  the  bridle.  She  then  took 
a  firm  grip  of  Charley's  mane  with  her  left  hand, 
and  with  her  right  slapped  him  on  the  shoulder  and 
told  him  to  go.  Heaven  help  her !  He  went!  On  the 
first  jump,  the  horse  sprang  so  quickly  and  so 
tiir  that  the  Texan  had  not  recovered  from  the 
surprise  until  the  horse  with  his  bound  and  blind- 


SILENT 

folded  rider,  was  gone.  And  all  there  was  left 
to  tell  which  way  the  horse  had  gone,  was  a  roar- 
ing and  crashing  of  timbers,  and  upturned  stones, 
which  were  rolling  down  the  mountain-side. 

Guiding  her  body  to  follow  the  horse  as  best 
she  could,  with  her  left  hand  clenched  tightly  in 
his  long  mane,  Betty  did  not  care  or  could  not 
see,  but  she  knew  that  she  was  going.  Charley 
would  take  a  few  short  jumps,  crouching  for  a 
leap  across  a  canyon.  It  was  then  she  would  get 
breath  enough  to  scream  at  the  top  of  her  voice: 

"Go,  Charley,  go!" 

It  was  the  first  and  only  time  in  the  horse's 
life  that  he  had  been  urged  to  go,  and  he  went. 
The  small  Texan  said  to  himself. 

"It  sounds  like  a  storm  in  the  mountains,  that 
horse  a-goin'  that  way.  I  never  heared  a  horse 
make  so  much  noise  before.  And,  if  I  didn't  know 
it  was  a  horse,  I  wouldn't  believe  it." 

The  crowd  at  the  Bear  ranch  was  getting  very 
large.  Nearly  everybody  was  there,  even  the 
postmaster,  who  called  the  two  families  together, 
and  in  loud  tones,  so  that  Tom  could  hear,  he  told 
them  not  to  get  excited,  that  God  was  Love  and 
Justice  to  all. 

Just  then  the  leading  Texan  spoke  up,  inter- 
rupting the  postmaster,  and  said  that  they  had 
better  do  something.  He  added  that  there  was  a 
storm  in  the  mountains;  it  was  getting  late  and 
the  storm  was  coming  that  way.  Already  the 
wind  was  blowing  hard,  and  they  had  better  de- 
cide upon  some  action.    Most  of  the  people  took  a 

—176— 


SHE  WHISPERED  IN  HIS  EAR  and  HE  UNDERSTOOD 

look  and  some  of  them  said  that  a  tornado  was 
coming  hke  fury  toward  them.  The  leader  got 
liis  field  glasses,  the  ones  he  had  used  to  hunt  the 
outlaws  with,  and  after  a  long  and  careful  look, 
he  took  the  glasses  down,  rubbed  his  eyes,  and 
iooked  again  carefully.  Then  he  exclaimed  that 
it  was  a  horse  and  he  thought  that  something  or 
jjomebody  was  on  it. 

"Can  it  be  possible  ?"  they  all  remarked. 

To  satisfy  them  the  leader  let  all  who  wanted 
1:0  take  a  look.  Most  of  the  time  there  was  noth- 
:ng  to  see  but  the  cloud  of  dust,  and  they  still 
)naintained  that  it  was  a  tornado  without  clouds. 

Tom  knew  mighty  well  what  it  was,  but  he 
was  gagged  and  could  not  tell.  He  blessed  the 
whole  world  and  all  that  was  in  it,  for  he  knew 
that,  when  Betty  was  on  this  side  of  the  moun- 
tains, the  roughtest  part  of  the  trail  was  over. 
.\nd  he  also  knew,  from  what  they  were  saying, 
that  Charley  was  coming  to  suit  himself.  But 
how  could  Betty  stand  it  ?  What  saved  her? 
^hen  he  remembered  what  the  postmaster  had 
said,  and  he  tried  to  speak  aloud  through  his 
,  ?ag.    He  could  almost  be  heard  to  say : 

"God  is  Love!" 

By  this  time  they  had  all  had  a  look  at  the 
liorse  and  they  believed  that  a  miracle  was  about 
^:o  happen — that  the  Lord  was  sending  a  mes- 
senger to  them.  The  horse  was  coming  with  the 
wind  and  dust.  Sometimes,  on  good  footing,  the 
horse  would  lead  the  dust,  and  again,  he  would 
be  swallowed  up  in  it.  But  they  could  hear  tht 
—177— 


SILENT 

constant  roar  from  his  striking  hoofs,  the  crashing 
of  the  timber,  and  the  sound  of  the  loose  rocks, 
falling  below. 

On  came  the  horse!  At  times  it  would  be  a 
dead  heat  with  the  dust,  just  the  horse's  head 
and  nostrils  showing.  Then  he  gained  a  little 
and  they  could  see  his  neck  and  shoulders.  Now 
he  was  leading  the  cloud  of  dust  and  wind,  and 
the  piston-like  movements  of  his  fore-arms  showed 
him  grasping  frantically  at  the  ground  ahead. 

He  struck  the  level  valley  and  Betty  knew. 
She  pulled  her  bonnet  off  her  eyes  and  looked.  She 
knew  she  was  passing  objects,  but  she  could  not 
distinguish  them,  one  from  another,  as  everything 
seemed  to  blend  together  in  one  long  streak,  until, 
like  a  steaming,  seething,  frothing  monster, 
Charley  halted  in  front  of  the  door. 

Betty  called:    "Cut  me  loose!" 

And  she  was  cut  loose. 

The  leading  Texan  handed  her  his  best  six- 
shooter,  and  pointing  inside,  said: 

"Go  in  there  and  use  it." 

Betty  walked  in,  gun  in  hand.  Mr.  Ash 
pointed  to  Tom  and  said : 

"There  he  is.    Plug  him!" 

Mr.  Bear  covered  his  ears  and  his  eyes.  Mrs. 
Bear  dropped  on  her  knees  to  pray,  while  Mrs. 
Ash  exclaimed, 

"How  the  poor  thing  has  suffered!" 

Betty  recognized  the  situation  instantly,  and 
said: 


SHE  WHISPERED  IN  HIS  EAR  and  HE  UNDERSTOOD 

"Somebody  get  that  gag  and  blind  off  or  there 
wUl  be  someone  plugged." 

And  Mrs.  Bear  responded  then  and  there. 

Silent  rode  his  ride  as  best  he  could,  and  saved 
his  horse  wherever  possible.  He  found  the  preach- 
er walking  from  the  church  to  his  home.  Without 
a  word  Silent  swooped  down  on  the  preacher  and 
picked  him  right  up.  With  his  right  arm  around 
the  preacher's  waist  he  lifted  him  astride  the 
horse,  and  after  a  few  whispered  words  of  ex- 
planation, he  told  the  preacher  to  put  his  right 
foot  in  the  stirrup  and  his  left  leg  in  the  saddle 
with  his  own,  and  thus  they  would  ride  a  horse 
as  two  men  should.  And,  as  the  two  looked  at 
each  other,  they  recognized  that  they  were  alike 
and  as  brothers,  in  a  way,  for  when  friends  were 
on  trial  they  were  friends  worth  while.  And  they 
rode  in  one  embrace,  as  one. 

The  crowd  was  watching  Betty,  as  she  sur- 
veyed them  from  end  to  end,  looking  for  a  hostile 
move.  Then  the  crowd  turned  the  other  way  to 
watch  a  new  object  of  excitement.  Two  men  were 
coming,  riding  one  horse,  and  in  each  other's  em- 
brace as  one  man,  and  making  good  time. 

Silent  said: 

"Look!  There  is  that  horse,  covered  with 
lather,  but  still  ready  to  go !" 

And  he  slipped  off  the  horse  with  the  preach- 
er in  his  arms,  half  leading,  half  carrying  him 
to  where  he  knew  Tom  was  waiting. 

The  preacher  entered.  Betty  nodded  and 
dropped  her  head.  Tom  raised  his  head  and  told 
— X79— 


SILENT 

the  preacher  to  tell  all  With  a  look  not  just  as 
kind  and  retreating  as  usual,  the  preacher  said : 

**Tom  has  asked  me  to  make  a  statement  for 
him.  It  is  not  my  principle  to  talk  or  to  tell  any- 
thing until  I  am  asked." 

The  preacher's  voice  was  very  hoarse  and 
commanding.  He  showed  by  his  looks  and  actions 
that  he  could  be  either  a  soft  and  gentle  adviser  or 
a  demon  of  courage.    He  continued: 

"I  am  addressing  the  parents  of  these  child- 
ren. Your  object  of  keeping  these  children  from 
loving  each  other  failed.  It  is  true  that  you  made 
them  quarrel  and  at  times  hate  each  other.  But 
the  power  to  prohibit  love,  which  you  tried  to  im- 
pose upon  your  children,  has  not  been  manufac- 
tured by  our  Maker.  For  the  Sunday  they  left 
here  together,  they  were  man  and  wife. 

"They  followed  me  from  Sunday  school  to  my 
home,  and  while  they  were  not  walking  together, 
I  knew  what  they  wanted.  Tom  came  up  to  me 
and  began  stammering  about  wanting  to  see  me 
and  asking  me  to  promise  never  to  tell  anyone.  He 
was  about  to  get  it  out,  when  Betty  came  up  and 
poor  Tom  was  unable  to  make  another  sound.  So 
I  promised  to  keep  the  secret  and  asked  him  if 
he  had  a  ring.  He  answered  that  he  had  a  ring 
made  out  of  a  horseshoe  nail,  saying  that  it  was 
the  best  he  could  do.  I  answered  him  by  saying 
that  I  thought  it  the  most  valuable  ring  that  I 
had  ever  heard  of,  as  it  was.  And,  in  my  esti- 
mation, it  was  far  ahead  of  gold  or  jewels. 

"And  then  and  there  I  married  them.  Now 
—180— 


SHE  WHISPERED  IN  HIS  EAR  and  HE  UNDERSTOOD 

that  I  have  kept  the  secret  and  have  done  my 
duty  as  man  to  man,  and  have  performed  God's 
will,  I  am  ready  to  answer.  Do  with  me  as  you 
will."    And  he  passed  out. 

"Let's  sell  them  guns  and  buy  a  farm,"  said 
the  leading  Texan,  as  the  three  left  the  house. 

Aron  said :  "Mr.  Ash,  I  am  willing  to  take  all 
the  blame  for  this.  And  as  my  daughter-in-law 
is  yours,  and  your  son-in-law  is  mine,  I  am  will- 
ing to  give  you  half  of  everything  else  that  I  have 
r'or  half  of  everything  you  have.  As  we  are  part- 
ners in  our  children,  let's  be  partners  in  every- 
thing." 

Dave  Ash  took  Aron  by  the  hand  and  said: 

"That  is  just  what  I  wanted  to  say  all  the 
dme,  but  didn't  know  how  to  say  it." 

As  the  two  old  men  walked  out  still  shaking 
hands  and  talking,  Mrs.  Bear  walked  over  to  Mrs. 
Ash  and  said: 

"I  am  mighty  glad  you  came  over  to  our 
house  today,  let's  get  our  albums  out  and  look  at 
the  pictures." 

And  the  two  old  ladies  toddled  off  together. 
The  storm  was  over,  no  more  wind  or  dust,  a  hush 
and  stillness  followed.  And  as  the  warring  fami- 
lies made  up  and  smiled  that  beautiful  smile  of 
oeace  and  contentment,  it  reminded  Silent  so  much 
)f  the  uneventful  future.  Would  they  need  him 
or  would  he  be  in  the  way?  He  became  restless 
and  would  walk  back  and  forth,  each  time  he  pass- 
ad  the  door  he  would  look  out  and  up  into  the 
heavens  where  he  would  hesitate  and  admire  the 
—181— 


SILENT 

mountainous  bundles  of  silver  tipped  clouds  as 
they  gracefully  drifted  by.  And  again  he  won- 
dered if  he  would  ever  be  called  upon  again  to 
face  the  odds  and  take  the  chances  for  the  pro- 
tection of  friends  or  the  helpless.  Desperate  men 
and  moments  he  loved  to  meet  and  face  when  they 
were  forced  upon  him.  Again  he  stood  in  the  door- 
way eagerly  watching  the  endless  numbers  of 
clouds  as  they  majectically  hurried  past,  their  sil- 
very arms  seemed  to  beckon  him.  Come !  Come ! 
For  the  second  time  this  peculiar  smile  and  bright- 
ness covered  his  face.  Stern  and  determined  his 
eyes  followed  the  clouds,  as  he  smilingly  whispered 
his  answer  to  the  beckoning  call.  As  he  started  for 
his  horse  Silent  passed  the  Indians  who  were  re- 
joicing and  smoking  the  pipe  of  peace,  and  when 
they  learned  that  the  clouds  had  beckoned  and 
he  must  go  they  lifted  their  voices  to  the  Great 
Spirit  chanting  their  pdayers  to  Him  and  asking 
His  protection  for  the  one  called  by  the  clouds. 
Then  they  gave  Silent  the  most  affectionate  fare- 
well ever  offered  the  Wanderer. 

Back  in  the  house  another  silent  drama  was 
being  enacted.  Tom  looked  at  Betty  and  Betty 
looked  at  Tom.  The  language  they  had  learned 
failed  to  describe  their  feelings.  They  embraced, 
but  said  nothing.  As  they  stood  there,  a  power- 
ful magnet  seemed  to  draw  them,  and,  embraced 
as  they  were,  they  walked  to  the  door  sidewise, 
like  two  small  children. 

As  they  looked,  there  he  stood,  head  up  and 
ears  back,  ready  to  go,  but  he  did  not  look  like 
—182— 


Other  Books 

BY 

C  A.  FOX 

The  Secret  Order 
Bad  and  Ella 
Truth 
My  Savior 


liariey.  He  looked  like  a  siaute  of  welded  rnuscie 
ad  bone.  They  walked  to  his  head  and  kissed 
m  and  then  kissed  each  other.  They  kissed  him 
^'•ain,  and  blew  their  breath  in  his  nostrils.  They 
itted  and  pulled  his  mane.  Finally,  he  dropped 
is  head  and  Betty  whispered  in  his  ear.  And 
e  unders};ood.  And  was  transformed  back  to  the 
nd  and  gentle  horse  that  he  was. 


TIIE  END 


~..-183^-'- 


mm^^ 


